A Christmas Miracle
by Yva J
Summary: In the midst of the holidays, business goes on as usual, or does it? Willy learns a lesson of good cheer, by surrounding himself with those who are as different as he feels.
1. Chapter 1: The Rainbow House

_Hello and welcome to my newest story. This one is a Christmas story which I hope that I will manage to finish in time for Christmas. Since I'm not leaving town, I should be able to get the chapters up a bit less hectically than last year's story. I don't anticipate it being twenty chapters in length, but amidst my other things going on, I really hope that I will have it completed by Christmas, or at the very least, New Year's. It does have references back to my story 'Thankfulness' so if you haven't read that, you might want to give it a go. That story is not very long, but the character of Wanda Reynolds is in both stories and she's a very important player in this particular one._

_Whatever the case, it is this busy and hectic time of year, so I will do my best to get the parts up. This idea actually started last year, but never got really worked on until now. So here's hoping you enjoy. I did put some research into this story, trying to keep the factual references and situations as real to life as possible. If there are any discrepancies, then by all means, let me know._

_Thanks and enjoy.

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**A Christmas Miracle**

By: Yva J.

**Chapter 1: The Rainbow House**

Amanda Covington was thirty nine years old when she attended her last concert and the world had gradually become a silent place to her. The dark headed woman had tried to shut out the fact that she was going deaf. That meant that she would never be able to sing, go to concerts, or even listen to music in the same way again. The thundering pulses of the loud concerts had taken away close to eighty five percent of her hearing, thus leaving a muffled and constant ringing in its wake.

For the longest time, she had spent much of her adult life trying diligently to understand what meant to be hearing impaired. Now that she was one of millions in the United Kingdom who was, she did everything she could to deny that it would be a state, which she would live in for the rest of her life.

Why did this even have to happen at all? She constantly asked herself. She always tried to do good work and had diligently devoted her life to helping others whenever she could. That seemed to have reaped nothing, and along with a bitter disposition, she spent much of her time working at a place called 'The Rainbow House'. This was a special community center fashioned to assist and educate society about the issues of blindness, deafness, as well as physical and mental handicaps.

Today, it was now abundantly clear that Amanda had paid her dues, and much to her dismay, she was among those whom the center now catered to.

The maintaining of this unique place had started by a man named Bradley Remington. When he died unexpectedly in a motorcycle accident, the center was automatically signed over to Amanda's aunt and uncle who had volunteered their services there for many years.

Upon taking over the running of the center, the first thing the Covington family did was rent out the group of small flats to visually impaired adults who were fighting for some semblance of independence. This was quite difficult in a society that tended to not take the visually impaired very seriously.

At that time, Amanda had just finished her studies and had returned to London. Upon her return, she was asked by the original owner to assist by doing their bookkeeping. The pay had been bad, but the small flat she received for her help seemed to make up for that tenfold. Now that she was completely focused on the center's finances, she ultimately found herself in places she didn't like and negotiating their future with hardened businessmen.

The center's continuation, was what had brought her to the high rise bank building on that particular day in December. She knew internally that things did not look good, in fact, she was well aware of what the center faced the second she walked into the banker's office. Wordlessly, she seated herself in the plush chair on one side of the desk, crossed her legs, pulled out a group of papers, and placed them on her lap. She waited for the man to sit down across from her and inform her of the center's declining status.

When he said nothing initially, she remembered how the papers had reported that the center would be most likely be closed down by Christmas, and this made a lump lodge itself in the back of her throat. She swallowed and looked over at him, all the while hoping that he would be able to help her by taking yet another loan application and putting this mess behind them.

"Ms. Covington, my name is Theodore Stevens, I've been assigned to advise you on your financial options," he began, his expression looking as though he was about to ask for her order in a fast food restaurant. He had the same, almost too friendly, smile on his face.

The only thing missing is the acne, she thought bitterly as she took in his overtly overjoyed expression, starched business suit and white and blue colored tie with red circles that covered it. This reminded her vaguely of the advertisements the city used for the London Tube.

She did not return the smile, instead she uncrossed her legs and inched her way towards the desk. "What is the status of 'The Rainbow House', Mr. Stevens?" She asked directly.

He turned away, his hand unconsciously moving from the desk in order to run his hand through his perfect hair before continuing to speak, the back of his head now facing her. "Things are not looking good for your center," he began all the while completely unaware that she could not hear anything that he was saying.

Instead of speaking, she took her fist and rapped it on the desk, thus causing him to turn around. As he did, she almost laughed when she saw that his eyes were filled with surprise. Of course, that faded when he noticed that she was looking across the desk at him through hostile eyes. "Mr. Stevens, if you please, I cannot hear you, I read your lips, but when you turn around, you may as well be talking to the wall."

"Are you telling me that you're deaf?" He asked skeptically. "The center sent me a deaf representative?"

"I prefer 'hearing impaired', but for practicality's sake, then yes, I have lost most of the hearing in both ears," she said and watched as his entire stance abruptly changed. Instead of addressing her as he would a hearing person, he had shifted from overconfidence to insecurity in the blink of an eye.

Instead of responding to him, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to start speaking. There was a part of her that wanted to yell at him and say that she was a completely normal and functioning person, she simply could not hear. The other part seemed to be asking herself what the point to all of this was.

When Stevens said nothing, but instead seated himself at the desk and nervously started shuffling his papers, she took a deep breath and spoke. "Mr. Stevens, what news do you have for me?"

"We found a buyer for the building." He raised his head and spoke, his eyes now locking on hers and his mouth overemphasizing each word as it emerged.

"You're going to sell it out from under us, is that what this is all about?" She asked. "Is that what the nice letter implied when it said I should come here for a meeting at eleven in the morning today? Your bank basically is going to approve my family and the residents of our center being tossed out of our homes on Christmas."

"That's not our objective, but the buyer may have that intention in mind," he said.

"Let me guess, Arthur Slugworth is the buyer, and there is no way in hell that I will be able to appeal to his conscience since he obviously does not even have one," she said as she looked down at the loan application that still rested on her lap.

"I am not so sure if you can, but you have to understand Ms. Covington, the Slugworth people have already signed the paperwork, thus taking over the mortgage on the property."

"Is that legal?" She asked. "You can't just sell the center like that. Well, take out another loan."

"I don't want to appear rude, but in layman's terms, your family is broke, you have already taken out a second mortgage on the place, you're also up to your gizzard in debt. You couldn't possibly make good on the interest alone if you were to take out another loan."

"Then I'll go to another bank," she said.

"I doubt that will help you at this stage of the game," he said bluntly. "There is not a bank in all of London who would take such a high risk client."

"So what you're saying is, you don't really care as long as the Slugworths can pay you the balance. It doesn't involve you, you've got a nice cushy job. You could care less that about twenty people will be tossed out of their homes on Christmas. As long as you can get your commission than what does it matter?" She started to stand up.

Feeling as though the woman was scolding him, he lowered his head and started to speak, his lips unreadable. She shifted herself around trying to make out his words, but when he kept himself in that position, she became discouraged and defiantly looked at him. "Would you at least have the common courtesy to look at me when you speak?" Her words emerged somewhat louder than was appropriate, but at least the man snapped his head up and was now looking at her.

"I know that you want to save 'The Rainbow House'," he began. "I sincerely wish we could find a way to help keep the center in business, as well as accommodate our other clients. Right now, our hands are tied." As soon as these words emerged, he turned away once again.

"If you have a problem talking to me, the least you could do is have your boss send someone who doesn't look at me like I'm a weirdo," she shot back, thus causing him to turn back around and look at her, his eyes wide with shock.

"I don't think you're a weirdo," he said.

"Then why don't you talk to me like I'm a normal person, and stop trying over-form your lips? You don't have a beard or mustache, I can read your lips just fine if you speak at a regular cadence," she said hotly as she started to reach for her purse. She knew that arguing the point further had proven meaningless. After all, bankers were bankers like corporate tycoons were corporate tycoons.

Defeated, the man looked at her and tried to speak as though talking to what he perceived as a normal client. "The mortgage on the center runs out on December 26," he said.

"Merry Christmas to you too," she said icily. "The Slugworth Chocolate Company has been interested in this crop of land for years, it's no shocking news to me. Arthur Slugworth has been trying to buy it out from under my uncle since he inherited the center some five years ago, and I am guessing that it was going on long before that. He'll finally succeed, all because he thinks that this will ensure that he can build an even bigger chocolate empire than Willy Wonka has. I know about that competition, the hatred, and all the other stuff going on between these two rival moguls. I also know that you don't want to grant us another loan because of the commission you'll probably be getting for helping the Slugworths destroy our center in the first place."

"That's not true," Theodore Stevens shot back. The young banker hated the prospect of being pegged by the woman, but every word she said had actually been the truth and there was no denying it. Yet, he did not want to admit it. There was a promotion at stake with this, and with that, came a considerable raise in salary.

Eventually, she took a deep breath. "You know, I may be deaf, but I'm not dumb, and I know that you're lying. You may be saying 'I wish we could help', but your thoughts are blatantly clear. 'What is the quickest way I can get this annoying woman out of my office?' Don't pretend that you care, because I know that you don't, so why lie to me about it? The sooner my family and I are cleared off the property, the sooner Mr. Slugworth can bulldoze what is left of the place." She started to walk slowly towards the door. "Maybe there is still hope, since it is Christmas, but you know I seriously doubt it."

"If there's anything I can do," he offered. "Completely off the record of course."

"Yes, there is something," Amanda said, her voice still filled with painful undertones.

"What?"

"Pray," she turned away, her hands now trembling as she put her coat on before leaving the office.

* * *

Outside in the hallway, Amanda fished a tissue out of her purse and started to blow her nose. She had known before going into Theodore Stevens' office that this was going to happen. After all, was there even a person who lived in London who did not know of the bitter rivalry that had been going on between the two confectioners? If they were aware of that, then they no doubt knew that the ante was 'The Rainbow House'.

Amanda pretty much knew what was going to happen, the building that housed the center would be destroyed and all the hard work that her family had put into it would be tossed aside like an old shoe.

In silent protest, Amanda had even given up eating candy.

Ever since her college days, she had known of the literal war that went on that industry. She had even written her Business Studies thesis on the rivalry that existed between Wonka Industries and Slugworth Chocolates Incorporated. Her thesis had received high marks back then, but now this contention between them was making her life a virtual hell. Slugworth Chocolates had made their intentions known publicly. They wanted to kick everyone out of the house and expand their operations. Arthur Slugworth even boasted that he would out produce Willy Wonka once the new buildings on his property had been built.

Amanda rubbed her hands together as she continued to walk down the long hallway in the direction of the elevators. On either side of where she walked, she could see doors leading into offices very much like the one she had just left.

She knew that she had to do so something, but she was completely at a loss. 'If not you who, if not now, when?' Her father's old quotations seemed to be drifting back into her conscience. His incessant quoting what he called his favorite literary gems were now haunting her. She wondered if there was even a chance of them providing her some sort of hope in this miserable existence.

There was no question that she was horrified at the prospect of going even further into debt. Of course, she was even more worried about the future of the center and could only conclude that any sacrifice she would have to make would be worth it. There were people who depended on her family and they did not deserve to be thrown out of their homes on Christmas.

What a catastrophe, she thought bitterly, as she started to make her way in the direction of the elevator. There seemed to be no one in the vicinity of where she was walking, so she kept her head lowered so no one would see the hot tears that were threatening to stream from beneath her eyes. She was a step away from crying out her frustrations, but instead, she reached the elevator and summoned it.

"Three weeks," she whispered under her breath as she shook her head despondently. "How can I raise enough money to save the center with only three weeks left?"


	2. Chapter 2: A New Acquantance

_Just a note about this chapter. The Blind Bar is a real place, it is inside a museum in Wiesbaden, Germany. I was there several months before this story idea came about last year. It was taken from a very empowering experience, which I hope is given its justice in this chapter. Here's hoping that you enjoy this update, and don't worry, as with most of my stuff, everything sort of 'connects' back to the main plot, so this isn't me going off on some crazy tangent.  
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_Enjoy.

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**Chapter 2: A New Acquaintance**

At the very same instant that Amanda had arrived at the elevator and pressed the button to summon it, Wanda Reynolds had emerged from one of the other offices and was making her way down the hall in the direction of the beige colored elevator doors. As she came closer, she could hear the sounds of the woman in the pristine suit muttering something under her breath. Not really thinking about what she was doing, she listened, all the while wondering why it was the woman was talking to herself in the first place.

It was no secret that she was quite accustomed to hearing people whisper words under their breaths. Children at the school where she taught did this incessantly, and her younger brother seemed notorious for doing that sort of thing as well. This was known to happen whenever he was trying to sort out the new ideas from the old. Of course, Wanda did feel that seeing someone do it in this sort of environment was more than just a little bit strange.

Trying to divert her focus, Wanda started to take in the woman's outward appearance. She was somewhat shorter in stature, but this was normal as the school teacher was unusually tall. The shorter woman had long brown hair that was pulled held back in a square shaped metal clip. Her jewelry, unlike Wanda's somewhat flamboyant earrings and necklace, were quite simple. On a gold chain hung a pendant in the shape of a teardrop, and her earlobes had matching earrings dangling from them as well. Her overall essence seemed to be a direct depiction of work and making money, although her demeanor seemed anything but 'business as usual'.

As she continued to take in the other woman's attributes, she noticed that Amanda carried a simple elegance about her, but she was not what one would call 'strikingly beautiful'. Perhaps this was because she seemed to carry herself in an almost confrontational stance as well as the fact that she did not smile.

Running her hand down over her simple peasant-style dress, the curly headed woman thought about how strange it was that two direct opposites would be standing in a hallway of this bank building waiting for an elevator. She brushed her hair back from her face for the umpteenth time, all the while the shoulder length coils insisting upon hanging over her brow. Disregarding her unkempt hair, she adjusted the thick-rimmed glasses that covered her blue eyes.

After several moments of listening to the woman's utterances, she inhaled slowly, her lips turning downward for a split second.

"That evil candy industry," the woman continued to mutter. "It would serve both Wonka and Slugworth right if they rotted from the inside out for this petty fighting."

This time instead of simply shadowing a look of contemplation, Wanda's expression darkened to that of anger. No one should say such things, at least not about her brother. She turned and looked at the woman. "I beg your pardon?" She asked, her words somewhat rude, but at that point, she did not much care. After all, she had only come here to take care of some private matters during her off period, and was now being subjected to listen to a woman who was basically badmouthing her own flesh and blood.

Amanda's incessant muttering still did not cease even after Wanda had spoken, and for some reason, it became clear to her that regardless of how angry this woman may have been, such things should simply not be said in public.

"Excuse me," She turned back towards the woman. When she still did not acknowledge what Wanda had said, she found herself trying to figure out why it was the woman was behaving so impolitely.

At that moment, the elevator chimed and the doors abruptly opened. The two women stepped inside the small, empty, enclosure. Once inside, Amanda silently pressed the button for the ground level, but oddly enough, she still continued to mutter spiteful words under her breath.

By this time, Wanda was becoming more than just a little bit unnerved. Agitation abruptly encased the otherwise calm teacher. I have to get back to the school, she thought, and I have a woman standing next to me and acting worse than some of the children in my class. At that moment, she glanced over to see a small circular pin that was affixed to the lapel of the other woman's thick woolen coat. It looked like something that one might find in a joke shop, but the words had been altered on it so that any passer by would not construe her as being rude.

The button read: 'I'm deaf, I'm not ignoring you'.

Wanda nodded in acknowledgement as she ran her hand through her curly blonde locks of hair. As she patted them once more into place, she reached over and touched Amanda's shoulder lightly.

This caused the other woman to abruptly turn, her green eyes filled with confusion as her gaze locked with that of Willy Wonka's sister. "Yes?"

"I don't mean to intrude, but are you alright?" Wanda asked. "You said something just before we got into the elevator and I thought that perhaps you had spoken to me."

"No," she said shaking her head. "I wasn't talking to anyone, I was just thinking aloud."

Wanda nodded. "I see," she said. Instead of telling her who she was, she remained turned so that Amanda could read her lips. "Have we met, per chance?"

"No," Amanda said as she once again turned away.

What she did not expect was for Wanda to stamp her foot twice on the floor. The vibrations from that caused the brown headed woman to turn back around, this time her eyes laced in annoyance.

"Are you sure? I don't want to seem rude, but I teach English at Haywood Secondary School, and I'm almost certain that I've seen you there before. My name is Wanda Reynolds," she said.

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else," Amanda said crossly. "I have only been to the school once, and that was simply to help one of our residents get her son enrolled."

Wanda nodded, that had to be the place then, she thought.

Of course, it was more than clear that Amanda seemed unwilling to reminisce about their earlier encounter. Instead of trying to get the deaf woman's attention for a third time, Wanda grew silent.

She knew who Amanda was, the work that the woman did for 'The Rainbow House' had given her a reputation as a civic leader of sorts. Right now, the news reports regarding the center's financial problems seemed to be the forefront of just about every news broadcast in the city. It also seemed clear that Amanda was the prime candidate for community empathy, but she clearly did not wish for it.

Instead of speaking, Wanda watched as Amanda distanced herself and waited as the elevator reached the ground level.

Several minutes later, it did and the doors abruptly slid open. Amanda slipped out and quickly distanced herself from Wanda, a small card slipping out of her pocket and landing on the ground.

Without thinking about what she was doing, Wanda leaned down and retrieved it.

As she straightened out, she could see that her assertions were affirmed. The card looked as though it was a business card, which had the woman's name etched across the middle with a rainbow that extended from one side of it to the other.

Taking a deep breath, she read the words that graced it, "Amanda Covington, Business Consultant: 'The Rainbow House'," she read, her voice a soft mumble, but no further words emerged. She hastily brushed her hand through her hair before tucking the card into the side pocket of her purse.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way towards the glass doors that led out of the building. She had not been in London very long, in fact, she had applied for the job as English teacher only that summer, but she had been involved in the community long enough to know of this place. Her colleagues spoke of it almost daily, and they seemed to believe that the only thing that might save it was a miracle.

Wanda wholeheartedly believed in miracles and for some reason, the whole story of Slugworth Chocolates trying to buy the property reminded her vaguely of the lyrics to a familiar song: 'They paved paradise and put up a parking lot'. At the same instance, she was comparing the whole scenario to the classic Charles Dickens' novel, A Christmas Carol.

She watched as Amanda disappeared outside and walked away from the large glass building. Putting two and two together, she figured that Amanda Covington had come to the bank because she and her family were grasping at straws in trying to keep the center in operation.

After listening to Amanda's cross words in the elevator, Wanda realized for the first time since its onset, this dramatic situation affected her brother as well. Willy Wonka was not the core of the problem, but she could not help but ponder if he might just be part of the solution. Is it possible that he might be able to do something that could help those poor people at 'The Rainbow House'?

Sighing, Wanda dismissed the unfriendly attitude that the other woman had displayed while they had been in the elevator. Her eyes were now filled with disquieted understanding. She walked slowly towards the glass doors, all the while buttoning her coat. If she could not do something to help, then what was the point of her being in this place at this time?

Stepping outside, she immediately felt the dampness of the drizzly and chilly London weather. She still had twenty minutes left of her off period and the school was not too far away. As she walked, her steps were slow and deliberate, but a plan was formulating in her mind.

Her next English lesson was now the furthest thing from her mind.

Close to ten minutes later, she reached the schoolyard and passed through it. The various entrances were empty, thus indicating that the children were still in class or having lunch in the cafeteria. Perhaps the dampness of the schoolyard kept the children inside as it was uncharacteristic for the place to be completely deserted.

She walked towards the building and once inside, she made her way down the hall in the direction of her classroom.

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What Wanda did not notice or even expect to see was how Charlie Bucket had distanced himself from a group of students in the cafeteria and had started to follow her down the hallway.

Unaware that she was even being trailed, Wanda slowly began to unbutton her coat, her thoughts still drifting. It was not until the boy spoke her name did she stop and turn around.

"Mrs. Reynolds?"

"Yes, Charlie, what is it?" She asked once the boy had reached where she was standing.

"I was just wanting to ask you something about our latest writing assignment," he said somewhat nervously.

Although Wanda knew that this particular student liked her, she always tried to keep a somewhat professional distance from him. She had initially become aware of this after Charlie had defended her honor and gotten teased for it. At the same time, she knew that he really enjoyed her class, and it was apparent because of his overt determination to do well. At the same time, there were still moments when she really liked his company and enjoyed the talks that they had shared.

"Why don't we take this conversation to the classroom? She offered. "That is where my books are and we may need them for reference."

The boy nodded, but it was clear that he was not interested in speaking about Scrooge or the assignment. Instead, Wanda concluded that he wanted to discuss something to do with the factory or his friendship with Willy Wonka. While everyone at the school knew of Charlie's good fortune, the secret of Wanda's connection to Willy, remained a mystery.

Together the student and his teacher made their way down the chilly corridor. When they reached the classroom, Wanda opened the door and motioned for him to enter.

As soon as they were both inside, she closed the door behind them, went over to the teacher's desk, seated herself, and watched as the young boy ambled over to it.

He inhaled slowly before starting to speak.

"You wanted us to write about putting ourselves in someone else's shoes like when Scrooge changed at the end of A Christmas Carol, right?" He began, his first statement formulated as a question.

"Yes, it doesn't have to be as vast a change as the one Scrooge underwent, but you could write about how your life changed when you moved from the outskirts of town into the factory." As she spoke, she noticed the contemplative look that shadowed the boy's face. After several moments of silence passed between them, she smiled and nodded as understanding washed over her. "You're afraid of the ego thing again, aren't you?"

"Well…" he began as he dug the toe of his shoe against the tiled floor of the classroom. After several seconds, he reluctantly nodded. "…I guess it seems rather obvious, doesn't it?"

"You've always been very shy about what happened to you earlier this year. I notice it every time someone in class mentions it," she said with an affirmative nod.

"It's been close to two months since everything happened, and I still can't believe it," he said, his hand rubbing through his wavy blonde hair. "Mr. Wonka said that he liked the fact that I didn't brag about it. But, I still worry that I might disappoint him again like I did the first day."

"You won't, Charlie," she said. "Willy mentioned the test to me the last time we spoke. He remembers what happened that day just as you do. But, I can assure you that talking about what happened is not bragging. I don't see how you could possibly make that sort of connection. I know that you getting to meet my brother was a wonderful thing, not just for you, but also for him."

"I still don't know what to write about," he said softly. "I mean; I didn't do anything great, I just did what felt right. I don't want everyone else to think that my entire life is made up of the factory. I know what my life was like before, and I know what it is like now. I'm grateful, but am still at a loss."

"I can see that," she said. "Do you know something? I think you just said something that might help you along."

"What?"

"Well, you know about transformation, you lived one, but my brother doesn't. How would be if we worked together and helped him to discover it."

"How do you mean?" He asked. "The last time I tried to write a paper, he said that he wouldn't help me with it. I mean; he gave me quotes and stuff, but that was all he did."

"Then do something a little bit sneaky," she said. "Don't tell him about the paper or anything you're doing for class, just tell him that you need his help with something."

"I don't get it," he mumbled.

"Remember, your assignment is to try and put yourself into someone else's shoes for a time. You know that you cannot pretend to be something that you're not, but you can put yourself into a situation that grants you better understanding of the things that other people face. Sometimes it can change you without your ever realizing that these changes have actually taken place."

"But, if I don't notice them, then how can I be changed by it?" He asked. "Mrs. Reynolds, how can I write about it?"

"That's where Willy comes in," she said with a smile.

"Okay, so how can he help me figure this out?" He asked.

"Think about it in this way, because you know Willy, he will see the changes in you," she said. "You take note when he does. That is, when he speaks of how you've changed, you write those things down and use them as part of your paper." She took a deep breath. "Charlie, this isn't about just writing a paper about yourself, it's about making observations. You read a book, and discovered how that book affected you. That impact can help bring about change, which can be applied in your daily life. That means that you have a better understanding of yourself through the literature you read." She smiled. "That's why I have a job, not just to make sure you dot your i's and cross your t's, but to help you get the most out of what you read.

"Basically, this is not just about how you interpret literature, but how it can empower you. Compare your experiences to Scrooge's and see how certain situations change you from the 'old Charlie' to the 'new Charlie'. I think that you know that through this, I am simply trying to challenge you."

The boy took a deep breath. "I still don't follow."

"Let me give you a little idea of what I mean through one of my own experiences. Several years ago, while visiting friends in Germany, I had gone to a museum of sorts, and inside this museum they had a place called 'The Blind Bar'…"

"…I'm too young for a bar," Charlie objected, thus interrupting her.

"No, it's not that kind of a bar. What this place represented was the chance for you, as a person who can see, to live out an experience as though you couldn't see, that is you were blinded. That's why they gave it that name. When I went into this place, I recognized that I was entirely consumed in darkness. I could not see my hand in front of my own face."

"Like the lights being out?" He asked.

"It's even more intense than that, because it is so dark that you can't even see a thing," she said shaking her head. "Charlie, I went into this place and ordered an orange juice, drank it, paid for it, and left, all the while completely in the dark. Through this experience alone, I got the very same impression of what a blind person would experience each and every day of their life. You walk through this place with someone holding your arm and leading you around. You can feel everything around you; the softness of the seats, the feel of the table, even the straw sticking out of your drink, but you see absolutely nothing. Through this, you really get a sense of what life must be like for a blind person, because for the duration of time when you are inside this bar, you have no sight. It was a very moving experience for me, and it is something that changed me for the better. For a brief moment, it also gave me the understanding of what life must be like for those who are blind or at least have lost one of their senses."

"Mr. Wonka said that he was deaf in one ear," Charlie mused. "Is that true?"

"Yes, it is," she nodded.

"How did it happen?" He asked.

"He was about your age when he went to a party with some of his classmates. While he was there, some idiot blew a siren into his left ear," she said. "I remember after that happened and how awful it was for him. Willy tried to conceal it the best way he could, he didn't want to be the outcast or the strange one. He wanted to be like all the other boys, and so he sort of played about with the idea that everything was fine. When the other kids found out about his being deaf in that ear, it was when they did these hearing tests at our school. He couldn't hear a thing, and this depressed him and made him stop doing the things that he was good at doing. He used to be a really good singer, but I haven't heard him sing in years."

"He still sings," Charlie said smiling. "He has a great voice, too."

"I haven't heard it, when did he sing for you?"

"He sang a bunch of stuff during the tour, sometimes weird stuff in foreign languages. The thing I remember most was when we came into the Chocolate Room for the very first time and he started to sing about imagination and creating paradise."

"That must have been wonderful," she said smiling.

"It was, but why didn't he sing for you?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I always hope that he would whenever we would see each other, but he never did, and I generally don't ask him about it."

"You should, I think he'd do it," Charlie mused.

"Maybe, but Charlie, right now there's something that has to take precedence to my brother's vocal abilities," she said, her expression shifting.

"What?" He asked.

"How would you like to help me convince Willy to take a sign language class?" She asked.

"Why?" He asked. "He can still hear?"

"I know, but if you both were to go and take a class in sign, then that might give you the experience that you need for the assignment. If Willy were to do this, then he could become your observer."

"That sounds really great," Charlie said. "But where would we learn?"

"There's a center called 'The Rainbow House' that teaches classes not far from here," she said. After several seconds passed, she regarded him, her blue eyes filled with intensity. "You should know that I would never force the issue with you, but it seems the most perfect idea."

"Do you think Mr. Wonka will go along with it?" He asked.

"Well, when you stop and consider the fact that my brother thinks the world of you as well as your opinions, this may actually be the way to go," she smirked. "It would seem to me that he just needs a little push in the right direction."

Charlie nodded. "I'll ask him about it tonight."

Wanda smiled. "Good, then you can let me know what he says tomorrow."

"Okay, I will," he said as he went over to his desk and sat down. At that moment, the other students started to filter into the room.


	3. Chapter 3: The Meeting of the Minds

_Hello and welcome to the next installment. Not much to say, it's late, and I really need to get this posted and get to bed. Hope you enjoy._

_If you do, please review and let me know. Thanks.

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**Chapter 3: The Meeting of the Minds**

As soon as school let out that afternoon, instead of heading to the library to work on his history project, Charlie Bucket returned to the factory. His thoughts were consumed with the words his English teacher had said.

Arriving at the factory grounds, he dug in his pocket and extracted his key. Fiddling with the object for several seconds, he found the right one and stuck it in the lock and turned it. As the lock clicked, he pushed his way inside only to turn back around and relock it. Silently, he made his way across the courtyard in the direction of the door leading into the nearest building.

For a fleeting moment, he recalled the day when he and his grandfather had come to the factory for the Golden Ticket tour. It had been like a dream, somehow still something that was not to be believed.

Inside the building, he started to make his way through the, now familiar, corridor. He entered the contract room and saw the large object still hanging on the wall. Instead of walking past it as he had often done in the past, he climbed the stairs and touched the large square where his, Violet's, and Augustus' signatures were still visible.

Touching the square for several moments, his ran his gloved hand over that portion of the contract wondering when, or if, Willy was ever going to take it down. He pondered that his friend could, at the very least, drape the red curtain back over it.

Yet, he did not.

How would he manage to tell Willy about the class, when he did not fully understand the motivation for it himself? He knew that he trusted his teacher, but he was still getting to know his mentor and there were moments since coming to the factory where he feared that his actions might upset Willy Wonka.

Climbing back down the stairs, he left the room and wound his way through the corridors that led to the chocolatier's office. As he walked, Charlie began to nervously unbutton his coat, all the while wondering what he was going to say to his mentor when he got there. Although he knew that Willy was generally in his office during that time, he was still not certain as to how his friend was going to react to his abrupt change of plans.

Contrary to popular opinion, Charlie knew beyond any doubt that Willy was the type of person who lived and worked on a very strict timeline. Was he going to scold me for having changed my mind at the last minute? Charlie pondered.

At the same instance, his thoughts abruptly shifted to Wanda Reynolds. She had been so insistent about him taking sign language that he did not feel as though it would be wise to argue against her suggestion. After all, he had gone to her seeking help. It would be rude to rebuke her, even if her suggestion did seem a bit strange.

With all these conflicting thoughts, Charlie reached the door leading into the confectioner's office. After several moments, he tapped lightly on the door, his knock light.

"Come in." The cheerful voice emerged from the other side before he could even contemplate whether or not the knock had even been detectable.

Opening the door, he walked slowly into the strangely decorated office. He took off his coat and hung it carefully on the coat rack next to the door as Willy turned away from the desk and broke into a friendly smile when he recognized who it was who was paying him an impromptu visit.

Charlie, despite his nervousness smiled when he saw the typical manner in which the curly headed man was dressed. The chocolatier was clad in dark brown trousers, white shirt and a vest that was decorated with Christmas holly without the berries. This was made up for by the bright red colored bow tie that was bunched at his neck.

"Charlie, my boy," he spoke, his voice depicting an almost forced cheerfulness. "I thought you were at the library today. You told me before you left for school this morning that you wanted to head over there after school to work on your history project. I'm afraid that I scheduled this paperwork around that."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wonka," Charlie began.

"No reason," he said, but after several moments, his expression grew earnest as he regarded the contemplative look that crossed his protégé's face. "You do look troubled. What's on your mind?"

"I guess I am, a little bit, anyway," Charlie admitted. "Mr. Wonka, I think I need your help with something."

"My help?" Willy asked.

"Yes, I've been trying to find some sort of project to do over Christmas, and I decided that I wanted to take sign language and thought that maybe you might want to as well," he said hopefully.

Willy's eyes widened. He had expected just about anything from his protégé, but that was not at all what he anticipated. He knew that while he had been getting to know the boy, that Charlie was incredibly conscientious about the well being of others. Of course, at that moment, he could not help but to look for some indication that the boy was not being serious. "Why do you think I might want to take sign language?"

"I don't know, I remember hearing you tell Mike Teavee during the Golden Ticket tour that you were deaf in one ear." He paused. "Remember?"

"Yes I do, and it's very much the truth, I am," Willy said with a slow nod. "But it's really not necessary, Charlie. I can hear you just fine."

"But, I thought that since you liked languages, It might be sort of fun," Charlie said. Instead of continuing to speak, he turned away from the confectioner, but not before giving him an unhappy glance.

When Willy still did not respond, he found his voice and continued speaking, his words laced in disappointment. "I guess, I sort of hoped that we could do something together."

"We do stuff together, we run this factory," Willy reminded him.

"I know that," he said. "But that's business, I thought that it would be kind of fun for us to do something away from the factory."

"But taking a class?" Willy mused. "Haven't you got enough to do with school?"

Charlie took a deep breath. "Well, it was you who kept telling me that I should try and broaden my horizons and learn something new. Does that mean that you don't want to learn anything new yourself?" He paused, his next question taking the chocolatier by surprise. "Or does that idea only apply to me because I'm just a kid?"

Willy took a deep breath as he regarded the youth. Well, there's no question remaining, he thought, Charlie's got you pegged. "Maybe you're right," he eventually said, his voice laced in reluctance. "Alright, we can take the class, but could we do it after new years? Christmas is our busiest time, you know." As if to emphasize his point, the confectioner picked up the newspaper that was lying on his desk and started to flip his way through it.

It was also no secret that prior to Charlie stopping by, the confectionary genius had been reading the top stories of the day. As soon as he had read about how Slugworth Chocolates Incorporated intended on buying 'The Rainbow House' property, Willy immediately felt a sense of impending doom. There was pretty much nothing that he could do to even counter it. Slugworth was expanding and Willy realized that he would have to work double time to keep his sales up and maintain the same profit margins as in the years gone by.

Ever since he opened his factory, Willy had worked long and hard to maintain the edge over his competitors. Now that was starting to dwindle away to nothingness.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his head from the paper to see that Charlie was still standing in the office and was looking at him, the boy's expression unreadable. The stress that Willy carried seemed to double now that Charlie was talking about them signing up for a sign language class. As he regarded the boy, he pondered if there was an easy way to let him down.

In this business, there was simply no time for frivolities.

Charlie, as though reading his mentor's mind, nodded. "I guess so," he muttered. "Oh well, thanks anyway. I guess I should go. I still have some homework to do. See you later, Mr. Wonka."

With that the boy grabbed his coat and left the office in the same quiet and accepting manner as he had come. Once he was gone, Willy was left alone to puzzle over what the boy had said. "Sign language," he muttered more to himself than to the empty room. "Who would have thought?"

His gaze returned to the newspaper, but all the while he was shaking his head. If only he could do everything that Charlie wanted and still save the factory from this pending disaster.

How in the world would he manage to pull the factory out of this situation? It was proving to not be a very special Christmas for him at all. He was seriously starting to lose his hope that he would even succeed. How can I even see the silver lining in all of this when all I see right now are the dark clouds looming over my head? He asked himself.

It was evident that Slugworth was dealing with the upper hand on this matter, and Willy Wonka knew it. His eyes closed slightly as he stared down at the clutter on his desk.

If only there was a way.

* * *

At the same instant Willy was lulling over his own concerns, Theodore Stevens was sitting at his desk on the twentieth floor of the large First National Bank of London. His eyes were staring down at the paperwork that lay before him, but he had lost his ability to concentrate ever since Arthur Slugworth had called that same afternoon and inquired, yet again, if it was possible for them to foreclose before Christmas.

As if the days were not passing quickly enough, Theodore thought sadly. There were actually moments when he really wished that they could sit and watch the bulldozers reduce the property to a pile of rubble. It would most certainly make his life easier. No more visits from the various members of the Covington family, and no more stresses regarding his intentions or motives.

The Rainbow House would soon be no more and with this meant that he would not have to deal with anymore sob stories from any of them. They probably sent that deaf broad here to evoke sympathy anyway, he thought crossly as he stared down at the papers.

As he began to sort through the stacks, the telephone abruptly rang. Without thinking about it, he reached for the receiver and placed it against his ear. "Theodore Stevens, can I help you?"

"Theo, it's Zelda." His wife's voice filled the otherwise empty office. A frown covered his face, but instead of acknowledging her words, he waited for her to continue. "I need to speak with you about something rather important."

"Couldn't it have waited until I got home?" He snapped. "I told you not to call me here."

"Yes honey, I know, but you also know that I wouldn't be calling if it wasn't important," she argued.

"Alright, then what is it that is so important that you would breech our agreement?" He asked.

"Amber's guidance counselor at school called again, and she said that our daughter is still having problems," she said. "She said that Amber had just come by her office in tears because she got another failing grade on an exam. This time in Math."

"What do you expect me to do about it?" He asked. "I mean; if there is a problem, then why don't you have Judith go take care of it. That is what we pay her for, and quite handsomely at that."

"I know, but it seems as though Amber's English teacher is making waves about our parenting methods," she said. "The counselor said that Mrs. Reynolds is insisting that we both come to the school Thursday morning for a meeting about Amber's situation. She seems to think that we are not doing an adequate job at raising our daughter."

"Oh really?" Theodore asked sarcastically. "What else did the counselor say?"

"That perhaps Amber needs glasses, because she has been complaining about not seeing the blackboard," Zelda responded.

"Then, for goodness sakes, take her to a doctor and get her some glasses," he shot back. "How hard can that be?"

"In all honesty, I don't think it's merely an issue of glasses, Theo. Amber is progressively getting worse. Not only with her grades, but her overall behavior is not right. On top of that, Mrs. Reynolds is calling here off and on about Amber, but doesn't seem to want to take 'no' for an answer."

"Well, she's going to have to," he shot back. "I have a lot going on here right now, and I don't need a busybody trying to invade our privacy. If she calls again, then tell her that if she is so unqualified to do her job, then we'll take Amber out of her hair and send her to a boarding school."

"Okay, but we still have to go and see her on Thursday. The counselor said that if we don't come, then they would discuss Amber's situation with someone from the Child Protection Services. They said we should go to see Mrs. Reynolds during her off period on that day."

Theodore took a deep breath. "This is absolutely crazy. I'm about this close to calling our lawyer and suing the school for defamation of character. False accusations and threatening us with Children's Services can wreck a person's credibility, especially in this business. Try not to worry about their empty threats, I'll take care of it myself. As for Thursday, I'll let Joe know that I'll be late for work so we can make that meeting. Aside from that, I feel myself rather inclined to give that meddling busybody a piece of my mind."

"Alright," she said. "I guess I should let you get back to work, then. I'll see you tonight."

With that, Zelda hung up the phone.

Once he had returned the receiver to the cradle, Theodore closed his eyes and shook his head.

For the life of him, he could not figure out what was going on with his wife. Why was she even panicking about this? After all, children will be children and this was probably just another senseless cry for attention.

When all this stuff with that crummy Rainbow House gets settled, then I can settle down and start giving something back to my family, he thought. As far as Theodore Stevens was concerned, Amber was simply going through a phase, and thusly, did not equate it to this much stress.

Theodore was completely convinced that it was nothing serious, but little did he know that it was very much an ongoing problem.

His only daughter was slowly going blind.


	4. Chapter 4: Putting the Pieces Together

_Here is the next chapter to the story. Here's hoping that you enjoy. It is a bit longer than my usual four or so pages, but I am not sure how long this will be and I do want to have most of the story posted by Christmas. As with many of my stories, this is becoming a trifle involved. _

_Hopefully if I don't have this up in time for Christmas, I will have it done by New Years.

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**Chapter 4: Putting the Pieces Together**

The following afternoon just before School let out, Charlie stopped by Wanda's classroom before heading back to the factory. He took a deep breath as he tapped on the door and then entered the room.

Wanda was seated at her desk, her head lowered and she was staring down at some essay papers. "Oh I don't know what I'm going to do," she muttered under her breath as Charlie came closer.

"Mrs. Reynolds, I need to talk to you about something important," he said.

"What's the matter, Charlie?" She raised her head and spoke, but it seemed clear that she was consumed with other worries. Instead of continuing, she raked her hands through her curly hair in very much the same manner that her brother did when exasperated.

Charlie could not help but notice that she looked pretty exhausted and her expression seemed indicative of someone who was not ready to have even more problems dumped on their lap.

"I tried to talk to Mr. Wonka about going to sign language, but…" his voice trailed.

"…He didn't want to go, did he?" She asked.

"No, he said that we could go next year after Christmas ends," he said.

"Not very likely," she mused. "He's a workaholic, and there's no telling when, or if, he would be able to fulfill that promise. One thing I do know, I can't sit idly by and wait for him to decide to do something, I have to get involved right now."

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked.

"Well, it's not exactly easy to explain, but Charlie, I need a favor from you. It's off the record and I can't give you any extra credit for it. I'm merely hoping that I can count on you to help me."

Despite her earnest sounding voice, the boy smiled. "What can I do?"

"Do you have an extra key so that I can get inside to see Willy?" She asked.

"He never gave you one?" Charlie asked.

"We haven't seen much of one another in quite some time, and I suppose for his safety's sake, I never contemplated asking until now. The truth is, there's a great deal more riding on this issue than just you getting a good grade in my class. There are some people who really need his help and I figured that the sign language class would be a great way for Willy to recognize that," she tried to explain. "Charlie, the last time I saw Willy in person was at the end of November, but that was very briefly, just after his Christmas candies were released. I was in the crowd at the press conference and while I would have liked to have gone and greeted him, I knew that because of the events of the day, it would perhaps not have been prudent."

"I guess it wouldn't hurt, but I can't stick around, because I have to work on my history project," Charlie said. "I can't imagine him getting angry with me for that simply because you're part of his family. I still don't understand why he didn't give you a key in the first place, I mean; you are his sister."

"Don't worry yourself about that, I don't have one because we haven't really seen each other since I got back," Wanda said with a casual shrug of her shoulders. "I suppose with the holidays coming, I have become a bit reflective about how he and I used to spend Christmas. We used to have such a nice time."

"What did you do?" Charlie asked.

"Usually all the things we weren't supposed to," Wanda smiled. "I remember one year, Willy decided that he wanted to try some of our father's eggnog. It was filled with egg liquor and he didn't know it. He got rather of sick from it, and to this day, he won't even touch the stuff."

Charlie smiled as he contemplated what his mentor's family life must have been like. Seeing as this was his first Christmas at the factory, he could not help but ponder what the holidays were going to be like this year with his family and Willy Wonka nearby. He looked at his teacher. "Sometimes I miss not having brothers and sisters."

"It was a lot of fun, but for Willy, it was sometimes very difficult," she said. "There are six years between our ages. That pretty much means that our hobbies and interests were vastly different. At times that was rather hard for him to accept."

"It's strange, but I always thought that everything that he did was filled with magic, fun, and laughter," Charlie mused.

"Not everything," Wanda said, shaking her head. "Willy has always had a hard time being understood. Most of his teachers and other adults thought he was a strange child. He never really fit in anywhere, and up until I left, I was probably the only one who really did understand that," she said sadly. "I never meant to hurt him when I left, but I was eighteen, rather childish and felt that there was no other option for me. Today, I realize the fact that we're family and we need each other."

"He doesn't say as much, but I think you're right, he does," Charlie said.

Wanda smiled. "Oh well, enough about that. Now that the school day is over, would you be willing to take me with you to factory this afternoon?"

The boy nodded, "sure."

"Thank you." she smiled as she got up from the desk and retrieved the papers she was working with. On the top of the stack was the latest essay from Amber Stevens. With an unhappy sigh, she tucked the papers away before following Charlie to the door. From there, they stepped out into the hallway.

Seconds later, they made their way outside. As they walked through the schoolyard, Charlie felt the coolness of the breeze as it wafted against his face. "Do you think we'll get snow this year?" He asked.

"Hard to tell," she responded. "I used to love the snow. That was before I learned to drive and always had to clean it off my car. Every morning it was the same, grab a brush and try and get rid of the powder. The worst stuff was the sheet of ice that would freeze against the windows. The only thing that helped was that yucky blue stuff that smells remotely like our father's old dentist office."

"When you put it that way, it doesn't sound like very much fun at all," Charlie mused.

"I suppose for children the snow is a lot of fun, though," she said as before taking a deep breath and changing the subject. "Charlie, I want you to know that I really appreciate you doing this. Maybe if I see Willy, I might be able to convince him that the classes are really a good idea."

"Maybe, but why is this so important." He asked. "I mean; he did say that we could do it later."

Wanda shook her head as she stopped walking and looked down at her student. "You cannot do it later. Aside from the fact that my brother's affirming that you could, it would not work. If you don't do it now, then you might as well not do it at all."

"Why?"

"The place that offers the classes may be closed down by Christmas. I don't know if Willy told you, and my guess is that he didn't because he's a stubborn coot who thinks that he has to handle everything by himself." Charlie nodded, but remained quiet as she continued speaking. "The Rainbow House is one of the very few places of its kind that is still in operation. It caters to the needs of the visually and hearing impaired as well as those with physical handicaps. From what I understand, Slugworth Chocolates Incorporated is wanting to foreclose on it and somehow Willy has found himself unwillingly stuck in the middle…"

"…Because he's the best at what he does," Charlie said.

"That's a good way of putting it," Wanda said nodding. "Slugworth wants the notoriety that Willy has, and I guess he thinks that through expanding, he will succeed in becoming even bigger in the business than Wonka Industries."

"Is that why you mentioned 'sign language' and not something else?" Charlie asked bluntly.

Wanda's face flushed slightly, but she nodded. "I suppose I do owe you an explanation for what happened yesterday. Just before we spoke about your paper in the classroom, I had gone to the bank to take care of business during my off period. While I was there, I saw Amanda Covington standing in front of the elevator. I didn't know who she was, and I didn't think to ask. She was muttering cruel words about Willy and the Slugworths and was very upset. I tried to engage her in dialogue, but she was not interested. Later, after she had walked away, I noticed that she had dropped one of her business cards on the ground. It was for 'The Rainbow House' and I surmised that she had gone to the bank trying to get some sort of help. Of course, it was apparent that she didn't find anything of the kind there. So I returned to the school and then we spoke. I think that was the reason that I thought you might be able to help. The thing is, not only do they offer these classes, but they also provide housing for the blind and deaf. The thing is, Charlie, these people don't deserve to be thrown out of their homes on Christmas."

Charlie looked at her and nodded. "What you did was kind of sneaky, but I guess that runs in your family." He smiled up at her. "Okay, Mrs. Reynolds, you can count on me, I'll do whatever I can to help."

She nodded and smiled. Somehow, she knew that she would be able to count on Charlie Bucket.

* * *

At the same time, Willy Wonka sat at the desk in his office and looked down at a various pages that lay before him. The holidays were coming and he could not stop thinking about the current state of his business. During this time of year, he generally thought about where he could make his yearly donations. Charities were always looking for extra help, and he had a strict habit of only giving to places that he knew would respect his wish to remain anonymous.

A slight smile briefly crossed his face when he noticed the spread sheet one of his Oompa Loompa workers had dropped off that morning. Christmas sales were higher this year than last because of the wake of the Golden Tickets. He was happy about that, but Christmas always seemed to boost his candy sales. Deep down inside, he knew that the holidays were not the source of his motivation, but rather supply and demand.

To the reclusive chocolatier, the holidays tended to remind him of how alone he was. This year, he had Charlie, as well as his sister Wanda, but he knew that both of them had families of their own. Charlie had his mother and grandparents, and Wanda had her husband and his family. Sighing, he realized that somehow he preferred January to December as the bitter cold of the month would take away the disquieted feelings that generally enfolded him during the holidays.

Seconds slowly ticked by when someone tapped lightly on his door. Distracted from his work, he slowly got to his feet and went over to open it. As he pulled it open, his eyes widened at the familiar person who was standing in the threshold. Despite his worries, he smiled, but spoke, his words forcing themselves out from between his pursed lips. "Wanda, what on earth are you doing here? For what it's worth, _how_ on earth are you doing here?"

"What? I don't even get a hug?" Wanda offered slyly as she looked into the eyes of her younger brother. "Willy, what ever would mother say to your manners, or lack thereof?"

Willy took a deep breath but managed to pull her into his arms and give her a hug. He wanted to keep her there, for fear that she was not real, but eventually he allowed his arms to lower and the embrace loosened as he looked down at the ground. "I'm sorry," he managed to speak. "So, how are things with you? How's Mark?" He asked, his question in reference to the brother-in-law whom he had never even met.

Wanda studied her brother's face, and when she saw the remnant of sadness in his eyes, she decided to humor him by answering his question. "He's fine, we both are. But, right now he's in Glasgow for a two week training seminar from his workplace. That means…" Her voice trailed off and she clasped her hands together.

"…You've decided to come and spread your little ray of sunshine here, right?" He asked as a tiny smile caused his face to light up. "How did you get inside anyway?"

"Charlie helped me," she said her expression matching his. "He's quite an extraordinary child."

"Yes, of that we can agree. He told me about you the day before he presented his 'Thankfulness' paper in your class. I was quite surprised when he told me that you were back in town," he said. "I probably should have come to see you, but I wasn't sure I'd be welcomed."

"You were always welcome, Willy," she whispered.

"I wasn't sure. I mean; I was busy and the last thing that I had heard was that you were in Liverpool trying to distance yourself from the hoopla that surrounded the factory. Not that I blame you for that."

"You don't?" She asked as she cocked her head to one side, the smile never leaving her face. "Not even a little?"

Willy took a deep breath, but released it. It was no secret, he could lie to just about anyone and get away with it, but with her, it was close to impossible. He only wished that he had more time to devote to these sorts of frivolities.

Wordlessly, Wanda walked over to the desk and made herself comfortable on the chair. When she saw a book of matches and a cigar in the half ashtray, she turned around and looked at her brother. "Willy, since when did you start smoking?"

"I actually quit in October," he managed, his face taking on a reddish hue. "I haven't smoked since then."

"Then why is this still there?" She asked.

"Posterity," he said with a chuckle. It was true, Willy was the type of person who would hang onto things that served as reminders of his past experiences. Wanda knew this from when they were kids, but she still could not conjure up what the cigar's significance might have been.

"You know I don't really buy that," she eventually said after an eerie silence had descended on the office. "I think you should work harder at it, you know perfectly well that the cancer rates are rising even faster than your candy sales. I just don't want my favorite little brother to be amongst those statistics," she said as she crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest.

"I'm your only little brother, Wanda," he said but took the ashtray and dumped the contents into the waste basket before looking back over at her. "Happy now?"

"Very," she said smugly.

"So, do you want to enlighten me as to what exactly you're doing here?" He asked.

"Does there always have to be a reason?" She asked.

"I'm not really sure," Willy quipped. "Usually when you come, there is a creative reason lodged in the recesses of your mind. After all, since your return, we have only spoken on the phone a few times."

"You know, sometimes I really don't know why I bother trying to be nice to you, especially when you start acting out on that 'tortured genius recluse' state that you seem so well known for getting into," she admonished.

Willy's eyes, in response to her words, unconsciously rolled and he offered her a coy smirk. Seeing this, she matched it with one of her own. This made both of them look rather like twin cherubs with matching blue eyes, curly hair, and eccentric clothing.

After several minutes, she took a deep breath. "Willy, would you believe me if I told you that I was here to see Mrs. Bucket about Charlie's performance in class?"

"No, because his last report card said he had an 'A' in English," Willy said smiling knowingly. "Must be all that extra help I've been giving him."

"Don't be so smug, he was doing very well long before you came into the picture," Wanda chided, but her expression shifted to a familiar one that was encased in worry. "Willy, all kidding aside, I need your help with something."

"Well, at least now the truth comes out, because quite frankly, I haven't got the time to have a battle of wits with you at the moment," he said, all the while knowing that he was losing, yet again, to his older sister's whims. "Just because school has let out for the day and you are off duty, does not mean that my workday is over. It's pretty far from it, considering how I still have a mountain of paperwork to contend with and I haven't decided where I am sending my yearly donation yet."

"How about 'The Rainbow House'?" Wanda asked.

"I would consider it if you would enlighten me on how this might actually help them. Word is they are going to sell out to Slugworth by the end of the year," he said. As these words loomed over the room, he motioned with his hand for her to vacate the seat in front of his desk. When she did not move, he leaned his weight against the edge of the desk and waited for her to explain her rationale.

Wanda took a deep breath. "Willy, they aren't selling out like you think, Slugworth is essentially trying to foreclose on the center and from what I have been able to gather, he's succeeding."

"The paper said that by the beginning of next year, they will be expanding," he said.

"Not if someone stops them first," she said with the typical Wonka determination. "If someone helps the Covington family, then this center can stay open and continue to provide the services as well as community awareness about those with mental and physical handicaps."

"That covers a great deal of ground," he mused. "Would you care to tell me specifically some of the things they actually do there? You have already made me aware that the newspapers didn't do it any justice."

"That's the problem, I'm not really one hundred percent certain about the specifics, but the other teachers at the school rave about this place. One of them told me that her mother enrolled in Braille classes so that she could remain independent in case the cataract surgery did not work. They also teach sign language and provide housing for the visually challenged and hearing impaired."

"Sign language?" He mused. "Does this have anything to do with Charlie coming in here yesterday and asking me about taking a class with him?"

She nodded. "Yes, I told him about 'The Rainbow House' and he seemed excited about the prospect of helping…" As these words hung in the air, she waited for her brother to say something.

When he did not, she studied his face a little closer. He looked stressed, and she figured that it was because of the holidays. That basically meant that it would be much harder for her to have any affect his conscience.

However, this did not stop her from trying.

After several moments of silence, she took a deep breath. "Willy?"

"You really do need my help with this, don't you?" He asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "I figured that you probably hate people badgering you about money and stuff, but this time it's really important. I think that one of my students will eventually require the services that they provide. If they're not there, then there is no telling what will happen to her."

Willy turned around, but when he saw the haunted look in his sister's eyes, he reached over and touched her arm, his fingers lightly brushing against the sleeve of her coat. Even after years of silence between them, the chocolatier could tell that something was not right. Especially, when his sister looked at him in this way. It was also no secret to him that if something had an impact on another person, then it impacted Wanda's sense of judgment and compassion.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke, his words filled with his own level of gentility. "You know that I wasn't trying to make light of your feelings, don't you?" He asked when she did not elaborate.

"I know and you don't owe me anything," she began. "I was sort of hoping that you might use your influence to help the people who are going to be affected by the center's closing."

"I could try, but I honestly don't know what I could do," he said. "If the center is going to fall into the hands of Slugworth Chocolates Incorporated, I am probably the last person in the world who might actually have an impact on it."

"Maybe the sign language class might be a good start," she said before handing him the card that she had picked up when she was at the bank. "Amanda Covington is the lady who helps run the center. I saw her at the bank just before she dropped this, and I think that she's in need of a Christmas miracle."

"Perhaps, but realistically what can I do?" Willy asked.

Wanda looked at him. "I don't know, but there's a little girl who's three grades behind Charlie in one of my classes. She's about nine or ten-years-old and has been gradually losing her ability to work in a normal classroom environment. I had to put her in the front of the classroom so that she could see the blackboard better, but right now I'm seeing her straining each day and it is progressively getting worse. The other children tease her unmercifully, and I have been trying for months to contact her parents about this, to no avail. No matter what I do, it's just getting harder to not notice what is happening to her. To make matters worse, several days ago, the school director came in and let it slip that she thought we should contact Children's Services on this child's behalf. Her parents simply are not showing any interest in her. I know their hired nanny, because I know Judith better than the child's parents."

"That's hard," the chocolatier said softly.

"She's trying so hard, Willy, but it is becoming harder to conceal what she cannot do. I don't know how much longer she will be able to function there."

"Charlie doesn't tease her, does he?" Willy asked, the words of his sister hitting him much harder than even he was aware. "If he did, I'd have to give that boy a stern talking to."

Wanda smiled, but shook her head. "No, Charlie doesn't even know her, and I am not at liberty to speak of any of my students with one of their peers. Besides, whenever boys his age defend girls, they get put down. Charlie went through enough of that before the Golden Ticket contest when he defended me."

Willy smiled. "I knew from the start that there was something extraordinary about that boy."

"Yes, well, he's proven himself to be a good kid, but that doesn't really provide us with a solution for Amber," Wanda said.

"Is that her name?" Willy asked.

"Yes," Wanda nodded. "Willy, I wouldn't ask you to get involved with 'The Rainbow House' or Amber's situation if it wasn't important. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," he said, but after a short pause he clapped his hands together once and nodded. "Alright, here's what we're going to do. I'll call 'The Rainbow House' first thing in the morning and ask about the sign language classes. You see about asking Amber's parents if she might come along with you on an excursion outside of school. From what you are saying, it sounds as though the child may be on the verge of losing her vision, and I would like to give her a chance to see something magical before that happens."

Wanda looked at her brother. "You'd do that for her? But, why? You don't even know her."

"I don't have to know her, I know you and I know that for you to care for her means that she must be very special to have captured your interest the way she has," Willy said as he went over to the desk and pulled a keychain from the drawer. Two keys dangled from it, but ignoring that, he handed the object to her. "You should be able to get inside the factory with those keys. Don't tell anyone where you got them."

"I won't, but I honestly didn't know that you were going to offer this, Willy. I only know that it bothered me to stand in an elevator with Amanda Covington and hear her badmouth you as though you are in the same boat as the Slugworth people. I just know that you wouldn't go and destroy a place like that just so you can expand. You're my brother, but I know you have a heart." As she spoke, tears unconsciously got caught in her eyes.

"You know, perhaps Amber should be allowed to go to this 'Rainbow House' herself," he suggested. "Maybe it could help her find friends and feel as though she belongs somewhere."

"I'll suggest it to her parents tomorrow morning, but I honestly don't know how long it's going to remain in existence. If I knew that it was going to stay, I would suggest that her parents take her there and let her enroll in Braille classes. I mean; if she is losing her sight, then she should be able to manage somehow."

Willy put his arm around his sister's shoulder. "We're going to help them then," he promised. "You know, it's Christmas, and somehow people do look and see miracles during this time of year as opposed to any other. Let me see what I can do. After all, what's the point of being wealthy if I cannot give something back?"

"You're not a Scrooge, Willy," she whispered.

"Maybe not, but it seems to me that there is something similar between myself and old Ebenezer," he said.

"I don't follow," she said.

"I do in that I have separated myself from the rest of the world, I have no real friends outside of the factory, and maybe it's high time that I try and find some," he said thoughtfully.

"You shouldn't cut yourself down, Willy," she said. "You're the greatest little brother that a girl could ever ask for. Somehow, I always knew that I could count on you."

Willy smiled as he embraced her. "I haven't done anything yet."

"I know, but you will," Wanda smiled, her blue eyes shining brightly. "You have that look on your face that shows that you have every intention of helping."

The chocolatier smiled. "Perhaps, but don't be too terribly disappointed in me if what I do does not help."

"It can't hurt," she said softly as she felt herself enfolded in her brother's embrace. Breathing, she could detect the comforting scents of chocolate and cinnamon.


	5. Chapter 5: Seeing is Believing

_Not much to say except: Enjoy.

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**Chapter 5: Seeing is Believing**

The following morning, it snowed. The streets of London were covered in white powder giving off a very Christmassy feel and look. That mixed with the lights that dressed the shop windows somehow made it seem as though the city's inhabitants were stuck in the middle of the festivities. In addition to that, the foggy weather seemed to indicate more snow was on its way. Children raced through the streets their joyful laughter filling the esplanades as they grasped the various holiday candies that the local confectioners had brought out.

To Amanda, all of this seemed very much typical. Standing at her window, she drew aside the curtain as the silence filled her. No vibrations or sounds of music could be detected. Sure she could see everything, but to hear the sound of a child singing a carol would have been the greatest gift in all the world. Backing several steps away, she continued to watch as the streets began to fill with people, their excited chatter completely undetected by the bitter woman watching from the run down window.

As the Christmas shoppers filtered about, she watched as their body language indicated their level of hurriedness. It was at moments such as these when she could recall hearing them shouting at one another to get out of the way. Back then, she had hated hearing the hostility in their voices, now she strained herself to actually detect something.

Backing away from the window, she allowed the curtain to fall back against the glass surface. Turning away from it, she went and showered before changing into a crisp white blouse and dark colored pants. A knitted woolen sweater completed her look. She returned to her dresser and retrieved the same earrings and necklace that she had worn to the bank two days before.

What a disaster that had been, she thought. How would she be able to even tell her Aunt Trudy and Uncle Ted that she had failed? Up to that moment, she had yet to say anything about her outing, except to say that they were not going to be able to get another loan.

Closing her eyes for several moments, she could feel the tears as they stung her eyes. How in the world am I going to tell the others that we will be evicted the day after Christmas?

She opened her eyes abruptly after several seconds as vibrations started to permeate about her. These were abrupt shifts, and she turned to see that the small red colored flag near the door was rising and falling in succession. This meant that someone was at the door and she started to slowly make her way over to it. Reaching out, she opened the door to see her aunt standing outside.

"Hello dear, did you sleep well?" The elderly woman asked, her good natured smile somehow drawing Amanda out of her somber mood.

"I guess so," she whispered, but shrugged her shoulders. "Aunt Trudy, there's something I have to tell you and I didn't mention it when I got back the other day."

"Come have some breakfast dear, somehow bad news is easier to take when one has some coffee in their system as well as some homemade pancakes," the older woman said gently. She reached out and took Amanda's arm and started to steer her towards the stairs. Before leaving the doorway, she reached out and closed it before allowing herself to be led towards the end of the hallway.

Amanda smiled slightly as she realized how her aunt was so accustomed to working with blind individuals that helping others seemed commonplace to her.

Seconds later, they reached the landing and Trudy looked at her. "Maybe things will start to look up, Mandy."

'Mandy' was the name Trudy always called her niece, specifically when she felt close to the younger woman. This always made Amanda's hardened resolve crumble somewhat, but generally it was only a slight change. Somehow the elderly woman knew that this made Amanda literally melt like butter, but of course, at that moment, when she had bad news, this only made things more complicated.

"I don't know if I can share your optimism, Aunt Trudy," she mumbled more to herself as they reached the cafeteria and went into the brightly lit room. The scents of fresh bread rolls filled her nostrils as well as the tanginess of fresh fruit and juices. One advantage to being deaf, she realized was how her other senses were heightened and she could smell and taste things that those with all their senses intact could not.

She went over and sat down in her usual spot. She would have a look at the morning paper before going and grabbing her usual coffee and helping herself to a plateful of pancakes. Trudy, knowing of this routine, sat down across from her and waited for her niece to tell her what she needed to say.

When she did not immediately speak, Trudy eventually cleared her throat before reaching across the table and touching her arm, thus making her raise her head. As soon as Amanda could see her lips, she began to speak once again. "You know, bad news, or in this case, any news, is a lot easier for a person to bear when it's shared."

"I know," Amanda said softly. "I just didn't know how to tell you. Aunt Trudy, the bank has basically sold 'The Rainbow House' to Slugworth Chocolates. It's just a matter of time until we get thrown out of here."

"How much time?" Trudy asked.

"They're giving us until Boxing Day," she said softly.

"Then you should have told me the moment you got back and not waited until now," Trudy said sternly.

"I know, but I really didn't know what to say. I was going to tell you and Uncle Ted about it as soon as I got back, but then you were working with some of the children from the Braille class and I didn't want to disturb you. Besides there stood very little point in saying something and scaring them. By the time you had gotten finished, I had chickened out. I was so afraid that I would come out and say something in such a cold and matter-of-fact manner," she said. "I didn't want you to think that I didn't care, because I do."

"We both know you do, dear," Trudy said softly. "Maybe that's why I decided that you should take a break from the bookwork and teach our sign language class this afternoon."

"But, I'm not that good at it, I mean; I'm out of practice because I'm so used to reading people's lips," she objected.

"Yes, but you really should keep up with your signing," she said wisely. "It is a beautiful language, Mandy. You can do everything with it that you can with verbal language and infinitely more. You can even sing in sign."

Amanda nodded sadly. "It's not the same though."

"No, it's not, but it is still a unique and beautiful language in and of itself. If you let it become a part of you, then it will," Trudy said. She reached across the table and took her niece's hand. "Marilyn is not here today, the beginning class meets at two. She called me this morning and told me that she's got the flu and she can't make it. Would you teach the class this afternoon? Give yourself a chance to not be so consumed with all this bookkeeping business. After all, that's not going anywhere."

"But we are," she whispered. "I have to figure out what to do."

"I know sweetheart," Trudy said gently. "Just remember that we are still here and have not gone anywhere yet. We do still have until December 26, and you know that at this time of year, miracles can and do happen."

Amanda shrugged her shoulders but nodded as she got to her feet and went over to retrieve her breakfast. It seemed clear that she did not want to show any emotion in front of her aunt, but Trudy knew that she was devastated by all of this. Smiling slightly, the older woman watched as her niece grabbed the things she wanted to have for breakfast that morning.

Instead of remaining seated, she silently got up and left the room.

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Reaching her office, Trudy Covington took a deep breath as she pushed the door open and entered the room. Amanda was far more attached to 'The Rainbow House' than she and Ted were. Although the young woman somehow was under the impression that it was the other way around. It seemed to stand to reason as Amanda was not just one of the people who worked for it, but now she was one of those it catered to.

As she seated herself at the desk, the phone chimed and she reached over and shoved a stack of papers to one side before retrieving it. "Rainbow House", she spoke the name of the place into the receiver. "Trudy speaking."

"Hello Trudy," a friendly baritone voice sounded at the other end of the line. "My name is William and I am calling because my friend Charlie and I are interested in taking a sign language class. My sister told me that you offer these classes there, is that true?"

"Yes, that's true," she said. "I take it you want to enroll in our beginner class."

"Yes, I'm afraid I've never learned any signs, but I am deaf in one ear and my sister seems to think that it would be prudent for me to learn some. When should I come by?"

"You can come anytime you like. You're welcome here, but perhaps I ought tell you a little bit about the class," Trudy said as she reached for a pen. "What we do here is conversational sign language, that is what most people need for simple communication as well as getting around. If you don't mind a slight inconvenience with the changing of teachers, you are more than welcome to come to today's class. My niece, Amanda, is teaching because our usual signing teacher is out sick right now. Just let me write down your name and address and we can have all the paperwork taken care of before you come. The class costs a pound thirty per two hour block and you can pay as you go. We offer refreshments, mostly cookies and tea and that is included in the cost of the class." She began to shuffle about with the papers and once she had one of the forms, she continued speaking. "Your first name is William and your last name?"

"It's Wonka," he said softly.

"Wonka?" Trudy asked as she wrote down his surname. "William Wonka…A-are you Willy Wonka?"

"Yes." His affirmative answer emerged.

After several moments of silence passed between then, she could hear him sighing at the other end of the line. "If you don't wish for me to come around, I understand."

"No, it's not that, I was just wondering why someone like you would even want to come to a place like this," she mused.

"I honestly don't know, maybe because I think there might be something there for me," he said. "I don't know if Charlie and my taking sign language is really the way to discover that, but I think there's a reason, we just don't know it yet."

"You are very welcome here, but perhaps we should refrain from telling my niece who you are," she suggested. "I fear how she might react."

"Alright, if you think that will help," he conceded. "What time should I come?"

"Well, the class runs from two to four," she said, "but you can stop by earlier and have a look around and meet some of our residents if you would like."

"That sounds great," he said enthusiastically. "I'm not sure about Charlie, but I'll definitely be there at two. Perhaps after the class ends, you can show me around."

"That would be fine," Trudy said. "Oh, and Mr. Wonka, how did you happen to hear about us?"

"The paper, as well as through my sister," he said.

"Has she been here before?" Trudy asked.

"No, she's a school teacher at one of the area schools and in the past, she has interacted with members of your staff," he explained.

"Thank you," she said smiling. "It's nice to know that the work we do has left a positive impact on other people."

"Believe me, it has," he said, and Trudy could almost sense a smile in his voice. "Thank you for your time, and your acceptance."

"It's my pleasure," she said smiling.

As soon as their conversation had ended, Trudy hung up the phone. I had no idea that Willy Wonka was such a friendly person, she thought. Maybe Amanda would not be so quick to judge him if she could discover what a kind individual he seemed to be.


	6. Chapter 6: Lessons

_Hello and welcome to the latest installment. Please let me know what you think. I am really psyched about this story, but I'm looking forward to what some of my readers might think. Sorry this installment is a bit shorter.  
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_Enjoy.

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**Chapter 6: Lessons**

At that same moment, Wanda was sitting in her empty classroom waiting. After meeting with Willy, she had returned home.

For the first time in a very long time, she felt strangely optimistic about Willy's promise as well as the pending meeting with Amber and her parents. Perhaps Willy's suggestion about her introducing the child to 'The Rainbow House' was a good idea.

Now, it was ten after the hour and she wondered if the couple was even going to show up at all.

Theodore and Zelda Stevens were not the most ideal parents in her opinion. In fact, Wanda had discovered this during the parents night when the couple had not bothered to show up to meet with her about the child's progress in her class. Instead they had sent a young woman in her mid twenties who introduced herself as the child's nanny. It was sad, but abundantly clear that both parents seemed be completely encompassed in business and work instead of setting aside priorities that embodied the child they were bringing up. Their behavior was a direct opposite to the little girl Wanda had gotten to know during the course of the semester.

Now sitting there, she was trying to formulate what she intended on asking them when they got there. She was not sure how well the idea would go over with an excursion outside of school. Some parents were very protective, and for good reason.

Of course, she also realized that this was a special circumstance, but was still not certain as to how they might react. After all, it was hard enough for her and Charlie to keep her identity under wraps, and now she was contemplating telling another of her students who her brother was. It was for that reason that she could not help but ponder whether or not Amber would be able to keep the secret at all.

Strange, she thought as she sorted through papers that were on her desk, most people had noticed that she had physical similarities with Willy Wonka, yet they had never managed to put two and two together.

At least not yet.

Seconds slowly ticked by as the door opened and she raised her head to see a man, woman, and the familiar child entering the room. The child held tightly to her mother's hand and her father seemed to walk in an almost businesslike stance. His face was etched in an almost expectant frown, which seemed clear to Wanda that he did not want to be there at all. Perhaps the only reason he was, was because of the phone call the school counselor had placed the day before.

"Mr. and Mrs. Stevens?" She spoke as the man nodded his head. "My name is Wanda Reynolds, I am Amber's homeroom and English teacher."

"Yes, we spoke briefly several weeks ago," the woman said, her gaze raising and meeting that of the woman seated behind the desk.

"What is this all about, Mrs. Reynolds?" The man asked in a confrontational tone of voice. "As a result of your hounding us, I am now running behind my time."

"I apologize for that, Mr. Stevens," Wanda said formally. "But, with all due respect, sir, the welfare of your child should take precedence to work. Part of the reason I asked you to come is because of how Amber has been doing in class." She cast a sideways glance towards the woman, but her gaze remained predominantly on the child's father.

"What do you mean by that?" Zelda asked hotly as her green-eyed gaze locked on Wanda. Instead of maintaining eye contact, her attention shifted until she was left staring at the African styled accessories that the teacher wore.

"I have been trying ever since parents' night at getting you to come here and speak with me about Amber's performance in class. I am not even certain if you were aware that I had to move her to the front of the classroom several weeks ago so that she could see the blackboard better. Now, I cannot help but notice how she is seriously struggling in class." She pulled out the essay that Amber had written about Charlotte's Web and handed it to Theodore. "Just take a look at this."

The man took the paper and looked at the uneven scrawl that lined the page. "Amber, would you care to explain yourself?" He asked after trying to make out the scrawl that lined the page.

"I tried, daddy," she whispered meekly as her eyes closed. "It was just so hard to see."

Wanda took a deep breath as she watched the child come about as close to crying as one could get in such an intimidating situation. "Amber, this isn't your fault, sweetheart. I remember what you told me several days ago after class had let out. You said that you thought you had something in your eyes because everything was swimming about in front of you."

The child nodded. "Yeah, and it's gotten worse." A pause. "What's happening to me, Mrs. Reynolds?"

"I don't really know, but you do know that you're not alone; you have me, and you have your mother and father," she said gently. "And who knows, you just might have other friends waiting in the wings."

"Like Charlotte in the story?" Amber asked.

"Yes, just like Charlotte," Wanda said kindly, but looked over at the child's parents. "What do you intend to do to help your daughter? She does need help, Mr. Stevens. If this paper doesn't indicate it, then nothing will."

"Are you implying that our daughter is a problem child or that she has learning disability, Mrs. Reynolds? I can assure you that she does not." Theodore said, his expression abruptly hostile.

"I am not saying anything of the kind, but I am saying that Amber has vision issues and may need to see a doctor," she said firmly.

"We took her to a doctor about a year ago and he said that she was fine," Zelda spoke up. "Perhaps we should go to a specialist."

"Perhaps you should," Wanda said. "It's very clear to me that your daughter is very unhappy now."

"We didn't really notice," Zelda hedged.

Wanda nodded as understanding washed over her. Perhaps they did not, as they had been too busy with work to notice their child's condition. It was merely the observations of those around them, which implied who knew what was specifically going on.

Sadly she took a deep breath. "I want to help your daughter if I can. I know that it is perhaps not easy for either of you, but I would like to take her somewhere after school today and I would need your permission to do so."

"Where do you want to take her?" Theodore asked.

"Well, two places, actually," Wanda began. "The first place is 'The Rainbow House'…" Her voice trailed off as the child's father angrily interrupted.

"…Absolutely not!"

"Why not?" Wanda asked. "It is the most qualified community center in the city. Why in the world would you forbid it?"

Without answering the question, Theodore Stevens turned away from them as his wife looked at Wanda. "What sort of work does this 'Rainbow House' do?"

"They help people like Amber find their place," Wanda said, her gaze still on the child's father. He seemed, if anything abruptly antagonistic about this plan and she could not understand why.

"They are going to close their doors on Boxing Days," Theodore snapped. "I will not allow my daughter to go there and try and prevent the inevitable from happening."

"Theo, she's a nine-year-old child, not the Prime Minister," Zelda said. "I don't see any problem with her going, if she wants to."

In response to this, Theodore stormed out of the room the door flying behind him. Once the door had closed, Wanda looked over at Zelda and Amber. Both mother and daughter were standing in the room and staring after him.

"I did not intend to offend you or your husband, Mrs. Stevens. My only intention was to help Amber," she said.

"I know, but after you said 'The Rainbow House', I could not help but wonder what your other suggestion might be," Zelda said.

"I would like to take your daughter to visit Willy Wonka," Wanda said. "I believe that you know that his apprentice is in one of my other classes."

"Willy Wonka?" Amber spoke up for the first time since they had arrived. "You mean I get to meet him?"

"If you'd like and if your mother says 'yes'," Wanda said.

"Really?" Amber's tiny face broke into a bright smile and seeing this almost made Wanda start crying. She had never seen this child this happy and it touched her deeply.

Wanda nodded, "yes, really. We can go to the factory one day after school and you can tell him 'Merry Christmas' face to face."

"Why would Willy Wonka's apprentice want to do something nice for my daughter?" Zelda asked.

"Why would he not?" Wanda shot back. She looked at Amber. "I happen to know that Willy Wonka is a very nice man, and that he would be deeply moved to have such a delightful visitor as yourself."

The child nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lightening up. "Oh can I, Mum?"

"Of course," Zelda said. "I couldn't say no to that request." She took a deep breath. "Mrs. Reynolds, I owe you an apology. I know that we seem like we don't care for our daughter, but we really do. I just can't understand why Theodore left so abruptly."

Wanda nodded. "I am only glad that you were both able to take the time to come and speak with me today."

"So, this means after school today, you will be taking Amber to 'The Rainbow House'?" Zelda asked.

"Yes," she nodded, but looked at the child. "Amber, when you get done with your last class today, come to this room and meet me and we can head over there. It's not very far," she said, "but for now I think you should get back to class."

The child nodded obediently and slowly left the room.

Once she was gone, Wanda looked at Zelda Stevens. "Mrs. Stevens, I don't want to be an alarmist, but if you're going to take your daughter to a specialist, you better do it before Christmas."

"Why?"

"Because, based on my observations of your daughter, I think she might slowly be losing her vision," Wanda said.

Zelda nodded and started to make her way towards the door, but before leaving, she stopped and turned around. "You really do care for these kids, don't you? I mean; that's why you kept calling and trying to get us to meet with you."

Wanda nodded. "Yes, that's why I became a teacher, Mrs. Stevens. If I didn't care, then I would have chosen another profession entirely."

Zelda smiled slightly and quietly left the room.


	7. Chapter 7: Connecting the Dots

_Hello and welcome to the next chapter. It seems clear that I will not get this done by Christmas day, but I am hopeful to keep in the holiday spirit and have it all completely posted by January 6, the day of the Three Kings, and when the holiday season officially ends. Here's hoping you enjoy the latest installment._

_I don't know if a person would do what Paul did in this scenario, but I do think that touch is a way for a blind person to 'see' the person whom they are speaking to. With that said,__ happy Christmas-eve eve.

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**Chapter 7: Connecting the Dots**

That afternoon, Willy stepped out beyond the factory gates and walked slowly in the direction of the school. He figured that if Charlie had come that route back to the factory, then he could intercept his apprentice and they could go to the class together. For whatever reason, he did not cross paths with Charlie, so he figured that perhaps the boy had gone to do research that day. He had not really spoken to him since their dialogue two days ago and now he really missed his young friend. I must have really hurt his feelings, he thought sadly.

Willy was not really certain as to how this was going to turn out. The woman whom he had spoken to that morning seemed very kind and accepting of who he was, but still, he had reservations about the class in general. Going there alone really made that point obvious in his mind.

Taking a deep breath he felt the coolness of the air filling his lungs. Releasing it, he allowed himself to smile ever so slightly as a gust of wind blew and he managed to draw his Victorian style coat closer to his slender frame.

It was much colder than he could consciously remember, but that was not saying much as he was not accustomed to leaving the secure confines of the factory. He could not deny that this idea had been a good one. Getting outside and seeing the people was a good way for him to get into the spirit of the holidays.

He continued to walk towards the address printed on Amanda Covington's business card, his spirits somehow sinking as he came closer to the building. It was a dismal looking place, the gray colored building reminding him vaguely of the despondency of the late nineteenth century. Coming closer, Willy discovered the deception in it. While the buildings carried an almost disheveled essence, there was an unmistakable warmth that encased the entire area.

He took a deep breath as he continued to visually take in every aspect of the place. The whole property looked as though it had been built before the war and that same musty air somehow permeated around him. This left him feeling as though he would begin sneezing at any given moment.

Stepping closer to the largest of the gray colored buildings, the chocolatier noticed a tall fence that surrounded what looked to be a children's playground. Various plastic figurines were positioned throughout the play area. Some had been faded from prolonged exposure to the elements. Overall, the stuff looked inexpensive and perhaps not as safe as modern toys were. Two small children were playing there, but neither looked up as he passed the area and entered what looked to be the front door of the large house.

He was surprised upon entering at the sheer size of it. From outside, the place looked much smaller than it actually was.

As he made his way down a long hallway in the direction of the reception area, he noticed various pieces of artwork hanging on the wall. On one, he took in a framed picture with children's finger prints adorning it. Next to that, a quotation by Helen Keller was hanging in a glass frame. It read the following words: "Never bend your head. Always hold it high. Look the world straight in the face."

Willy walked still further until he reached a doorway leading into a room that was marked with a faded sign bearing the words: Visitor Center.

Stepping inside, he immediately noticed an elderly lady and a man with mahogany colored skin standing on the opposite side of a long counter. The woman had her hand on the man's shoulder in a motherly sort fashion while the man was snapping his fingers and humming what sounded remotely like the refrain to a jazz song. He wore dark shades, which concealed his eyes.

Willy smiled despite his earlier impressions and approached the desk as the woman turned around and looked at him. "Yes, may I help you?" She asked in a friendly voice.

"I'm not really sure," he began. "I called here this morning and spoke with someone about taking sign language classes here."

The woman's face broke into a broad smile. "Yes, I remember speaking with you. You're William, right?" He nodded. "I'm Trudy Covington and this handsome fellow here is my right hand man, otherwise known as Paul Simmons."

The man raised his hand and offered a casual wave, but did not make any movement from the counter like the woman did. She rounded the counter and came over to him and offered her hand, which he shook.

"So, are you here to liven things up?" Paul asked.

"I don't know," Willy said immediately relaxing and offering them a casual smirk. "I'm not all that certain as to how much chaos I can create in a sign language class."

"Touché," Paul said smiling. Before he continued speaking, he reached over and grasped a silver cane with a black band which wrapped around his wrist, he stepped out from behind it, the cane moving lightly across the surface of the floor. Expertly, he made his way over to where Willy stood and stopped the second he was standing in front of the chocolatier.

"Do you mind if I touch you?" He asked.

"No?" Willy said, but it seemed clear that he was somewhat confused by Paul's somewhat peculiar question.

The man reached over and lightly touched Willy's face, his fingertips brushing casually over his cheek and his nose. Moving further along, he felt the wiry coils of hair that domed the chocolatier's head. After several seconds, he lowered his hand and backed away, the smile never leaving his face. "You know, Trudy, I really like this guy. He's got them good vibes going."

Trudy smiled. "You should know, you eat his candy every day after dinner."

"I do?" Paul asked, his expression becoming momentarily contemplative before breaking into another bright smile. "William Wonka, huh? Either you're really out of your neighborhood or Trudy, here, is stringing me along yet again."

Willy smiled but shook his head. "No one is, Paul. I am actually the person she said I was."

"No kidding," Paul said. "Well what are you doing here? My big jazz gig is not until two days before Christmas."

"I'll make a note of it if you'll tell me where you'll be playing," Willy said.

"It's going to be here, and Trudy promised to bake some of her special Christmas cookies for it. You really should come," he grinned. "Feel free to bring some candy too, there will be plenty of hungry people around, and the kids would love it."

Willy chuckled. "I'll have to do that then. I've always been a fan of good music."

"Then it's perfect match up," Paul said smiling as Willy turned and focused his attention on Trudy. She had silently been listening to their dialogue with a bemused expression on her face.

"Be that as it may, Paul, William is here for a class, and we don't want to make him late," Trudy said.

"Speaking of which, how do I get to the class?" He asked. "And, while we're on the subject, who do I need to pay for it?"

"We can do the money later," Trudy said. "For now, I'll take you. Finding the room is rather tricky."

"Then you should let me take him," Paul interjected. "I'm used to walking around in the dark, so it should be no problem."

Trudy looked at him. "Okay Paul, you know the way."

He nodded and bowed humbly in the direction of her voice. "Come on, let's get going." He paused before continuing to speak. "So, do you mind if I call you Willy?"

"Not at all. I'll agree to that if I can call you Paul," Willy said.

"Now that, my friend, is a deal." He chuckled as he rested his hand on Willy's shoulder. "Hope you don't mind my using your eyes on this little excursion. I know the way, mind you, but I need your help in keeping me from running into walls."

"Is that why you have the cane?" Willy asked curiously.

"Yes, I will use it to get back here after I drop you off at the class," he said. "Room ten, right Trudy?"

"As always." Came her immediate answer. "Then I'll leave you in Paul's capable hands. Just be careful, William, he may end up talking your ear off."

"I'll make sure it's the deaf one," Willy chuckled as he and Paul walked out of the reception room. "She's a very nice lady," he remarked.

"That she is, but she still insists on taking care of people, even the gown ones who reside here," Paul agreed. "I sometimes think that she's the heart and soul of this place."

"How long have you been here?" Willy asked.

"Since I got out of high school," he said. "It's been twenty five years. I knew the previous owner, too. He was a very good man, but he was careless and went way before his time."

"So I take it you have pretty much memorized the entire place," Willy said openly, thus changing the subject. "It's surprising because it has so many passageways and even with sight, I fear getting lost."

"Maybe," Paul said with a smirk. "You ever meet a blind person before, Willy?"

"No, actually you're the first, and a lot different than I initially thought," he said truthfully. "I know it seems strange for me to say, but I thought I would be nervous or intimidated, but I'm not."

"I'm honored and quite humbled by your honestly," Paul chuckled as he squeezed Willy's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "You're alright even if you have a psychotic hairdo."

Willy chuckled. "So I've been told."

Paul nodded. "In all seriousness, it's really surprising how many people show up here at the center and I get a sense of what they are like by how they treat me. Some behave as though I am a fool and others ask me why I always wear dark glasses. They're even more surprised that I can play the 'sax' as well as I do."

"How did it happen?" Willy asked. "I mean; were you born blind?"

"No, I got sick when I was little kid, and the illness somehow caused me to go blind," he said openly.

"Do you ever regret not being able to see?" Willy asked.

"No, what's there to regret really? I'm alive, and I thank God for that every single day," he said. "I've got a roof over my head and friends who accept and care for me. Sometimes a person may be rich in money, but they're not really happy. I'm rich in the ways that matter. I have people like Trudy and Ted who are kind and loving. They're the ones who give me wings in that they don't treat me like a cripple. Instead, they treat me like a human being with respect and kindness."

Willy felt a lump catching in his throat. "You are very lucky, Paul. It's strange, but I felt something rather nice about this place when I got here. Maybe it was those vibes that you mentioned earlier."

Paul nodded. "That could be it." As he spoke, they reached the door to the sign language classroom and without thinking Willy peered into the room.

When he saw only two teenage girls sitting in the room talking, he glanced down at his watch and noticed that it was now two in the afternoon and that class was due to start. "This is rather sad," he remarked.

"How many?" Paul asked.

"Two," Willy said. "Trudy said that the regular sign language teacher is sick and that her niece would be teaching the class."

"Ah yes, Amanda," Paul mused with a nod. "Some of us call her 'The Grinch who stole Christmas'. Well, 'Mister Good Will To All', you definitely have your work cut out for you with that one."

"What do you mean?"

"She's the epitome of anger and hostility," he said. "But, I figure that if anyone can melt her cold heart, it would be you. Why don't you stop by the front office when you're done, maybe we can have a mug of coffee before you head for home?"

"I'd really like that, Paul," he said as a shorter woman brushed past them and breezed into the classroom. She stopped momentarily before turning around.

"You shouldn't be blocking the doorway, Paul," she said snappishly. "It's rude and you really have no business here."

"Yes Miss Amanda," he said somewhat sourly as soon as she had stalked past them and entered the room. "Bah-humbug! She used to be a lot nicer when she could hear."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, that girl was happy and joyous, she would sing with me and we had a great time. But now ever since she lost her hearing, she has lost a lot of her drive, and some of her humanity. She's defensive and downright not nice to people at times. It's strange because I know that she really does want to save the house, but God willing, it will be saved and we'll all be here next Christmas. I guess there are moments when I really cannot get over how hostile she is."

"Thanks for telling me, but I've got one more question before I take the plunge here," Willy said. "How did you know that she was no longer standing here?"

"Easy, aside from her body blocking off the light emitting from the room, her voice got softer as she walked past us," Paul smiled. "I'm think I'm going to have some fun teaching you about the world of the blind, Willy."

"I think I will have fun learning from you," he said as he dug in his pocket and pulled out a candy bar. He had brought it with the intention of eating it during their break, but instead opted to giving it to his new friend. "I'm going to put something into your hand."

"Okay, let's have it," Paul said with a casual nod before extending his free hand closer to where Willy's voice had originated.

In response to that, the chocolatier placed the bar in his hand and watched as the man felt the size and texture of the wrapper. He then broke into a wide grin. "Mmmm, a regular Wonka bar right?"

"Yes," Willy said. "You can tell by the size and feel of it?"

"Yep, and the fact that it happens to be my favorite. How did you know that was how I figured it out?"

"Lucky guess, I suppose," Willy said as someone reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and found himself looking into Amanda's stern green eyes.

"Are you here for sign language class or idle chit-chat?" She asked.

"I'm here for the class," Willy nodded before turning back to Paul. "I'll see you later, and thanks for the nice conversation."

"My pleasure, man," Paul said as he walked away. As he did, all Willy could hear were the sounds emitting from his cane as it stroked its way against the tiled floor. Once these sounds had faded completely, he entered the classroom.

* * *

The sign language class was scheduled to go through until four, but it was immediately disclosed that it would last until four fifteen with a break in the middle.

By the time they were ready for a break, Willy had learned the finger alphabet as well as some of the easier words and phrases in sign. Of course, the only disquieting thing he learned was of the embittered attitude and stance of the teacher.

While Paul had been lighthearted and easy to talk to, Amanda was not. Her impatience seemed obvious each time he tried to sign something. After being belittled several times, he had grown silent and simply watched as the teacher signed with the two teenagers in the class. One of the girls was deaf the other hearing. Feeling ignored, Willy finally stopped asking questions when Amanda would turn away from him each time he tried to address her.

It was clear that he had yet to learn about stamping the floor as his sister had done in the elevator or using touch as a way of getting her attention.

As the class broke up for the fifteen minute break, he was feeling rather unhappy with the choice of taking the class. He eventually went over and met the two teenaged girls who were taking the class with him. The deaf girl knew the language fluently, and was merely there to act as a support system to the hearing girl.

Willy noticed how both of them were casting glances in his direction, and for whatever reason, he pondered whether or not they knew him or had seen in back in October when he had emerged from the factory.

As his gaze met one of theirs and she had looked away, he realized that they were both noticeably shy. As he got to his feet and started to walk over to them, the words of the hearing girl suddenly emerged.

"I don't like the way she treats him," the hearing girl was saying to her deaf cohort. "I mean, every time he tries to say something, she turns away and shuts him out. He seems like a perfectly nice guy."

The deaf girl merely shrugged her shoulders. "Some people just have a bad attitude," she said as Willy approached.

"Perhaps she's just unhappy," Willy offered with a reserved smile.

"No," the deaf girl turned and faced him. "There's no excuse for being rude to anyone like that. For one thing, it doesn't encourage people to learn sign and for another, it's just wrong. I mean; you're here for a reason, right?" Willy nodded and she continued speaking. "If she belittles you one more time, I may find myself saying something that I will, no doubt, regret."

"It has been my experience that languages generally have good and not so good teachers," Willy said. "If you have a good teacher who is respectful, then you will be motivated and enjoy learning."

"You speak other languages?" The hearing girl asked.

"Yes; I speak French, German, some Spanish and Latin," Willy said.

"Wow, that's a lot, and now you're learning sign," she responded. "It would seem that you are a real linguist of sorts."

"Perhaps," he smiled. "My sister's an English teacher, and she has a great fondness for language. My guess is that she inspired that in me."

The hearing girl smiled. "That's fantastic."

"What are your names?" Willy asked.

"My name is Anna Hendrix and this is my cousin, Ingrid," the deaf girl said while signing to him and once she had finished, she extended her hand to the chocolatier and felt him taking it and giving it a half shake, half squeeze. "And you are?"

"My name is Willy," he said.

"That's short for William?" Ingrid asked. "Anna's dad is named William, but everyone calls him Bill."

"Yes," he nodded. "That's a common short form, but I prefer to be called Willy instead of Bill."

"Picky, aren't we?" Anna said with a chuckle as Amanda came over to the group.

"There are some sweets and tea in the adjoining room. Go ahead and help yourselves. We'll reconvene in about ten minutes," she said, but immediately turned away just before Willy could thank her.

"Why does she do that to me?" He asked.

"Stomp twice loudly on the floor," Anna advised. "That's how we get each other's attention. She'll feel the vibrations and turn around."

"Stomp?" Willy asked.

Anna did it and the three of them watched as Amanda turned around her arms crossing over her chest. "What?" She asked crossly.

Willy took a deep breath. "I just wanted to say 'thank you'." He took his flat hand and moved it from his mouth downwards.

"You're welcome," she said, but instead of speaking further, she wordlessly walked away.

"There goes my motivation," Willy muttered under his breath.

"Anna's mine," Ingrid confided. "She's not just my cousin, she's also my best friend. I'm not going to let some sourpuss dictate whether or not I learn this language."

Willy nodded. He was still facing the two girls, but somehow Ingrid's words struck a chord with him. "In other words, I shouldn't be so quick to give up."

Anna nodded, but reached over and touched his shoulder. "If you really want to learn something, then do it, and don't let anyone else dissuade you from it." Moving her hand, she started to walk in the direction of the adjacent room. "Let's go get something to nibble on." A pause as she turned around and looked at the chocolatier. "You coming, Mister Candy Man?" She asked with a wink before disappearing through the doorway.

Willy's mouth opened slightly in surprise, but he raced to catch up with them nonetheless. When he finally did reach them, he lightly touched Anna's shoulder, thus causing the deaf teenager to turn around. Once she did, he spoke. "You know who I am, don't you?"

"Sure, how many curly headed guys named Willy roam about the streets of London smelling like chocolate?" She smiled impishly at the bemusement that shadowed his face. "I knew who you were the moment you walked into the room. It doesn't take a top hat and waistcoat for me to recognize you, I could tell by the smell."

"If I didn't know better, I would think that I might be in need of a shower," Willy smirked.

"No way," Anna objected. "That's not what I meant. What I was trying to say is that you have a pleasant essence. It sounds silly, but that's how I figure people out. I use my other senses, like touch, sight, and smell."

"Do you think that Amanda has that too?" He asked.

"Most people who operate on four senses generally do," Anna said. "At least that's my experiences. I think Paul has them too, he can hear things that puts an average bloodhound to shame."

"It's strange, but the longer I'm here, the more amazed I become with how the people manage to improvise. It's really quite inspiring." He cast a glance in Amanda's direction. "You're not going to tell her who I am, are you?"

Anna shook her head. "No, but there stands a chance that she might already know? Especially if she's from this town. You are a rather famous person and if she doesn't notice how kind you are, then it's really her loss. The thing is, I know her type. She's someone who misses her hearing, and doesn't know how to compensate for not having it." Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he said.

"Why are you here?" She asked. "Is it because of the house being on the verge of closing?"

"You know about that?" He asked.

"Sure, everyone knows, it's just that no one really talks about it."

"I don't know if I can do anything to help, Anna, but I will try," he said.

Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him. "It would be the best Christmas present in the world if you could."

Willy nodded as he returned her embrace. Somehow he knew that there existed more truth in her words than anything else he could have surmised.


	8. Chapter 8: Coming Home

_Merry Christmas everyone. Here's hoping that although this will not be finished today, that you will stay tuned and continue to enjoy some holiday surprises._

_Take care everyone and have a wonderful and joyous holiday.

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**Chapter 8: Coming Home**

The second half of the sign language class proved to be a lot more productive for Willy than the first. Perhaps it was because of the assistance provided by Anna and Ingrid. Both girls did whatever they could to make it fun and he was grateful to them for that. At the same instant, however, he was becoming somewhat fascinated by the teacher.

She stood at the front of the classroom showing them various signs and it became clear that part of the problem lied in the fact that she appeared bored. Her unhappiness seemed rather catching, similar to the latest flu bug that was going around.

With that analogy in mind, Willy tried to focus his attention on the two teenage girls. Through them, he discovered a newfound motivation in learning.

As the class ended, Willy got to his feet and collected the pages that Amanda had given out during the course of the lesson. Reaching for his coat, he put the pages inside the front pocket and started to extract his gloves.

It was at that moment when he realized that he was going to meet Paul for coffee before heading home. As he draped his jacket over his arm, he found himself watching as the two girls were leaving. "See you tomorrow, Willy," Ingrid called out after several moments had passed and he raised his head and nodded as Anna waved to him.

Arm in arm, the two girls left the room, thus leaving Willy alone with Amanda. At that moment, he wished that Charlie was present, but figured that the boy had gotten distracted after school let out. Either that, or his manner the other day had left a bitter taste in his apprentice's mouth.

At any rate, the Chocolatier now stood in the room waiting. After several minutes, instead of leaving, he silently walked over to the desk where the teacher was standing. The woman's eyes were still carrying their typical anger and hostility, but meshed in that was also a mixture of pain and sorrow.

It was painstakingly clear that Willy had not noticed it before, perhaps in his haste to judge the woman, he did not see beyond the obvious.

She was standing there and staring down at the ground, her hands clutching one another. At that moment, he could clearly see that everything was simply too much for her to bear. How much of a burden must this lady carry? He asked himself as he dug in the pocket of his pants and extracted a handkerchief. Approaching the desk, he reached out and touched her shoulder.

She raised her head and her eyes met his. "The class is over, you can leave now."

Willy shook his head. "I don't think so."

"What do you mean?"

Wordlessly, he pressed the handkerchief into her hand and waited for her to speak. When she did, he was nearly bowled over by the emotion filled words she had chosen to speak.

"Why do you have to be so damn nice?" She asked, her voice cracking. "And to me, someone who clearly doesn't deserve it." Turning away from him, she used the cloth to wipe the moisture away. The tears that had been stinging her eyes now streamed from beneath them and she was doing everything she could to conceal the outburst.

For several moments, Willy did not speak. He merely watched as she tried to recompose herself. Managing this somewhat, he leaned towards her and captured her shoulders in both of his hands before carefully turning her around to face him.

At this moment and no matter what happened, he was determined to not let her turn away from him again. "It's Christmas, Amanda, a time for forgiveness; for love, and compassion," he said softly.

"No one has shown me any of those things," she whispered more to herself than to him.

"Perhaps they are waiting for you to be their shining example," he said. "We can start right here and now. Would you forgive me?"

"Why do you ask me that for?" She asked.

"Because something tells me that you are angry with me for whatever reason," he said. "I think you know who I am and that perhaps explains why you are behaving in this way. You are acting in the only way you know how," he said firmly, his hands still resting on her shoulders. For several moments, he somehow felt as though he was invading her space, but he also knew that if he lowered his hands that she would most assuredly turn away from him yet again.

Instead of contemplating that further, he continued speaking. "When I first came into this house earlier today, I learned that people are very unique as well as observant. Paul noticed that I had never met a blind person before, and he shared a part of his world with me without expecting anything in return. He accepted me as an equal, and that gave me a very good feeling about the people here. Anna confided that her sense of smell helped her to figure out who I was and she accepted that without any reservations. That is, she opened the door to becoming a true and valued friend." He paused for a moment, the air somehow feeling strangely tight in his lungs. "Now, I don't know if my assertions about you are true, but I am guessing that you figured it out as well. There is no denying that you are very smart so based on that assumption as well as how you turned away from me, that you have known from the start. After all, my name is not very common, and perhaps my occupation is even less common. However, no matter how much you may wish for it, I cannot deny who and what I am anymore than you can." As he spoke, he lowered his hands, thus indicating that if she wanted to leave, she could without him stopping her.

"You're really Willy Wonka?" She whispered after several moments had passed and she backed away from him. Instead of waiting for him to answer and without any sort of warning whatsoever, she began to shout at him, her voice laced in all the anger that had been imbedded in her tormented spirit. "It's all your fault that we are in such a mess. You're nothing more than another asshole businessman. You don't care about anyone but yourself..."

Willy reached over and took her face in his hands, his actions causing her flow of words to abruptly cease. Wordlessly, he shook his head adamantly. "…No, I am not like Arthur Slugworth, and the reason that I am here is because I _do_ care," he said softly. "Just look at me, Amanda and please don't turn away again. I cannot rectify anything if you decide to just yell at me and then ignore my response." He lowered his hands and began to sign to her, his lips moving parallel to his movements. "My name is Willy Wonka." He lowered his hands and continued speaking. "You knew from the first moment we met who I was. Did you not?"

"Yes, I knew," she whispered. "I saw you give Paul that candy bar and then watched how you went over and started talking to those girls. Now would you mind telling me what you're doing here? I figured that it was to mock us."

"I would never have done that," he said simply.

"I sort of figured that because you didn't do or say anything antagonistic throughout the class. I kept waiting, but you didn't. You never did, but I am guessing that you could have. I guess I started to realize how it had become harder for me to despise you." As she spoke, she shook her head as though in denial.

Willy smiled slightly at the woman's bold words. Instead of immediately speaking, he reached for her hands and led her over to a group of chairs and sat down. "No matter how much you may hate me, I couldn't have done anything to hurt or upset you."

Amanda briefly looked away from him, the sincerity of his words causing the tears to stream freely down over her cheeks. "I shouldn't have assumed so much about you."

"Perhaps you did for a reason," he said. "You have been through so much because of this industry. Now, because of what Slugworth is doing to your family and friends, my guess is that you figured that I was not any different. Maybe I wasn't, maybe ambition made me forget about the things that are really important. I will admit that I was quite worried for myself and refused to grasp how this was affecting you. I mean; if all we have to go on is some skewed article in a newspaper, then it's truly no wonder we reacted as we did. I'm sorry for that. I cannot say it enough."

"No, it's not you who's sorry, it's me," she whispered.

Willy smiled slightly. "You know, if I was in your shoes, I would have reacted in the very same way."

"You would?"

He nodded. "We are very similar in nature, Amanda. We both care for our work, our livelihood, and our families."

"After I lost my hearing, I started to lose hope that people outside of my family even cared," she confessed.

"Don't ever lose hope, if you did then all would be lost," he began, his voice gentle. "I don't know if there's anything I can do to save 'The Rainbow House' as it stands, but I can assure you that the people who make this place their home will not be cast out in the cold if they are forced to move. I will think of some way to help you as well as all of those who depend on this place for their livelihoods. It may not save Christmas, but it could very well give it some much-needed cheer."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know how to find hope again. I've spent so much time this year trying to save the house."

"I know you have," he said. "Do you remember when you went to the bank the other day and encountered a woman in the elevator?"

"Yes, I remember her, she had the same color hair as you," she whispered. "I also recall that I wasn't very nice to her, but it was because I was so scared."

"She knows that," he said.

"But, h-how do you know about my running into her?" She asked. "I mean; it was just a chance meeting."

"Perhaps that was how it looked, but the truth is, she told me about her crossing paths with you," he explained. "You see, the woman you met was my older sister, Wanda," he said as he grabbed the coat and dug around in the pocket before pulling out a business card and showing it to her. "After you left, you dropped this on the ground. She picked it up and brought it to me when she stopped by to visit yesterday. She could tell that you were worried and afraid."

"I was just being rude," she whispered.

"No, you were frightened," he responded. "Somehow bankers and those corporate yahoos have their way of making a normal, rational thinking person feel as though they are three inches high."

"He kept turning away, and I couldn't hear anything he was saying," she whispered. "Then I got angry and started rapping on the desk. He turned around and probably figured me for crazy, but I wasn't. Then he kept saying that he cared, but I somehow figured that he didn't. He just wanted to get rid of me and I was determined not to go."

Willy took a deep breath. "You don't need him anymore, Amanda. But, what you do need is to get the truth out about what has been happening here. Let people know that you need their help. I thought for the longest time that 'The Rainbow House' was selling out to Slugworth because that was the papers were saying, but it wasn't the truth at all. I was just as blind as Paul in that regard, and I was also deaf because I didn't listen to reason when my apprentice was telling me that there was more to life than just business. I do regret that, but I can change it."

Amanda took a deep breath, but instead of speaking, she felt her resolve crumbling right in front of him. "I'm frightened."

"I know, but you are not alone anymore, you never were," he said. "When Wanda heard you in the elevator, she reacted and that was what brought me here. It wasn't to mock you or anything of that nature, but it was because of what she told me about you. In that moment, something happened to my sister, which opened my eyes to what was happening right under my nose."

"You came because of that?" She asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "It's not about expansion or candy sales, it's about being human, and not letting someone feel as though the rest of the world has cast them off and forgotten the impact that they leave on others."

"But they have forgotten," she whispered. "When that man found out that I was deaf, he suddenly started acting strangely, as though I was a leper or something."

"You're not," he said. "I'm deaf in one ear, but that does not define me and it should not define you."

"It feels like it does."

"Is that why you hate teaching sign language?"

"How could you tell?"

"I don't really know, I think it was something that Anna said." He paused. "She said something that made me think that perhaps part of the reason you are not happy is because you recently lost your hearing." He paused. "How long has it been?"

"Close to a year," she whispered.

"So, it's not been very easy for you at all, has it?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No, but it's just because I want to be normal like everyone else."

"Normalcy is overrated, dear lady," he said with a quirky smile. "Take it from me, it truly is. Being unique and different is more of a blessing, because you stand out in a crowd, and people notice you." He pulled her into his arms and held her firmly, but gently, in his embrace.

As she felt this, she allowed her body to sink into his hold, the softness of his touch making her smile. "Thank you, Mr. Wonka."

Willy backed out of the embrace and smiled impishly at her as he spoke, his next words laced in joy. "You're very welcome, Miss Covington."


	9. Chapter 9: From Acquaintance to Friend

_I will try and get these chapters up as quickly as I can, but if no one is reviewing it, then I am under then impression that this story should be completed next year before Christmas. I am not really sure what I should do with it. Do you want me to finish it now, or do you want to wait? If no one comments, I may put this on hiatus until next year and finish 'The Searchers'._

_Thanks.

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**Chapter 9: From Acquaintance to Friend**

At the same instant that Willy was speaking with Amanda, Amber and Wanda arrived at 'The Rainbow House'. The school teacher was smiling as they approached the door leading into the building. After several moments of watching, Amber glanced over to see that there were several more children playing outside than when Willy had come by. She stopped for several moments and watched before following the teacher inside.

"So, what do you think?" Wanda asked.

"It's kind of neat," the child said, her head lowering somewhat until she was staring down at the ground. "I still don't know why my daddy didn't want me to come."

"That's hard to tell," Wanda said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Sometimes parents don't always acknowledge their children's needs in the way that they should. It happened a lot when I was a child, and sometimes my brother and I were left to sort of fend for ourselves."

"You're lucky, I don't have any brothers or sisters. All I have is Judith. She's nice, and all, but it's still not the same…" Her voice trailed off.

Wanda nodded. She could fully understand what her student meant, and this broke her heart. After all, a child being able to be happy is a very important thing and it was abundantly clear that Amber was not. "No, I can imagine that it isn't the same. But, perhaps one day your parents will recognize that."

"Maybe," Amber said softly but it was as clear as crystal that there was no hope left in her heart. Her voice did not sound at all optimistic, in fact, it came across as a direct opposite.

As the door closed behind them, Wanda began to take in the corridor in much the same way her brother had done only hours before. Instead of speaking, the child and her teacher walked the length of the hallway until they saw Willy and Amanda coming towards them in the opposite direction.

Both the chocolatier and the woman were silent as they reached where the teacher and her pupil were standing. As soon as Willy recognized his sister, he broke into a bright smile. "What are on earth are you doing here?" He asked.

"I brought one of my students to meet some of the people here," Wanda explained. "Quite honestly, I didn't know that you were even coming. Is Charlie with you?"

Willy shook his head. "I called here this morning after he had left for school, so I didn't have a chance to tell him that I intended on coming."

"No matter," Wanda mused. "From what I understand, he has a history project that will be due before the holidays."

Instead of responding, his attention shifted and he looked down at the little girl standing next to his sister. "What's your name, sweetheart?" He asked.

"Amber Stevens, Sir," she said shyly.

He nodded as he got down on his knees in front of her. "It's very nice to meet you, Amber," he said as he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you," she responded, but her expression was still laced in shyness.

For his part, the chocolatier could not get over how unhappy the little girl looked. It had started with her addressing him as 'Sir' and somehow culminated to her awkward stance. This seemed to be the typical manner in which she addressed adults and for whatever reason, Willy did not like it at all. 'Mr. Wonka' was okay, but 'sir' seemed completely out of the question to him.

He was about to tell the child that she could address him as 'Willy' when something caught his eye. He abruptly turned around to see a shadow crossing Amanda's face. Not knowing what any of this meant, he took a deep breath, all the while realizing that something was amiss. The woman's expression abruptly shifted from that of neutrality to one depicting indescribable anger.

Wordlessly, he offered a gentle squeeze to Amber's shoulder before turning towards where Amanda had been standing. Instead of seeing her still present, all he saw was her back as she made a hasty exit.

He took a deep breath as he looked at his sister. She had noticed this shift in the other woman's stance as well, but instead of speaking of it, she tried without any success at processing what had just happened. Finally, she put her observations into words. "I'm having a difficult time understanding any of this."

"What do you mean?" Willy asked.

"Don't you sense it, Willy?" She asked. "Something strange is happening here."

Willy looked at Amber. "Do you have any idea about what is going on?" He asked trying to draw the little girl into the conversation. Perhaps the child would know something that they did not. After all, children are generally observant in these particular situations. This did not detract from the fact that Amber looked intimidated by what had just transpired and the chocolatier had no intention of contributing further to that overt discomfort.

"No," the child whispered, all the while shaking her head. Her gaze was still on the spot where Amanda had been standing prior to her departure. "I don't think she likes me," she said, her voice emerging much more boldly than the other times when she had spoken.

"Why do you say that?" Wanda asked.

"Because that happens a lot," the child said timidly.

"How do you mean?" Willy asked.

"I don't know, people hear my name, and they sort of – leave. Judith once said that it's probably because they don't really understand my daddy," Amber said.

Wanda looked at Willy. "Maybe there is a connection."

"What do you mean?" Willy asked.

"Well, this morning when her parents came to meet with me, I made the suggestion of bringing her here, and her father was adamantly opposed to it," she explained.

"Why?" Willy asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Wanda mused.

"Do you think that his reaction might have something to do with Amanda's reaction just now?" Willy asked as he kept a gentle hand on the shoulder of the little girl. As he spoke, she raised her head and shyly stared up at him.

"I think that's a remote possibility," Wanda said. "Most parents would not have reacted as he did. He was shouting at Amber about her essay and then ended up storming out of the classroom. It was quite a strange turn of events and even Amber's mother looked to be at a loss."

"That is strange," Willy mused. "So what should we do?"

Amber looked at him, but instead of offering any sort of answer, she shrugged her shoulders.

He smiled gently at her before raising his head and regarding his sister. "I'm going to find out what is happening, you two stay here," Willy said adamantly.

"Alright," Wanda said. "Amber, why don't you and I go and have a look at some more of the artwork they have hanging around here?"

Amber nodded as Willy left them alone and returned to the reception room.

* * *

This time, as the chocolatier came into the room, he immediately noticed Amanda standing alone in the far corner of it. Her back was facing the doorway and she was staring at the wall. Her fists were clenched, but her arms seemed to hang limply down by her sides. For a moment, it looked as though she was counting to ten and trying to keep her anger at bay. This was not proving exceedingly easy, in fact, it he was not mistaken, it looked as though she was once more ready to explode with suppressed rage.

Willy went over to her and rested his hand on her shoulder, thus causing her to take a deep inhalation of breath before turning around. As she did, he tried to offer her a gentle smile. "Why did you leave?"

Amanda took a deep breath. "I left because…because –. Do you have any idea who that kid ís?"

"Yes, she's one of my sister's students," the chocolatier said. "Wanda thinks that she may be going blind and we both figured that she could use some help that only this center could provide. That's why we both agreed that Amber might actually fit in here and not feel like an outsider. Neither of us expected or even anticipated that a nine-year-old child would get such a cold reception from someone who is as devoted to this place as you are."

"I don't think you understand the implications of her being here," the woman said snappishly. "That little girl's father is the banker who wants to close this place down. He wants nothing more than to kick us out of our homes on the twenty-sixth and leave us to fend for ourselves."

"Are you certain about that?" Willy asked.

"Positive," she said. "I saw a photograph of her on his desk the other day when I was in his office. It was the first thing I saw when I came inside and I don't forget a face, Mr. Wonka," she said as her eyes took on an accusing look.

"Perhaps not, but this center should be open to everyone who needs its services. I never even expected or anticipated guilt by association as proper rationale for being unkind to someone. Specifically when that someone is a child who did nothing to deserve it."

"Why did your sister have to bring her here?" Amanda asked.

"As I said, we believe that the child is slowly losing her vision and felt that it would do Amber a world of good to find a place that would show her some semblance of compassion," Willy said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Neither Wanda nor myself were even aware that it was Amber's father who was trying to make your life a misery. If we had known, we would have tried to find some other alternative, but perhaps this was the very best one. If Amber gets help here, then maybe it would help to change her father's mind about closing this place down." He reached over and rested his hands on both of her shoulders. "You cannot know what the future will bring, but if you close your heart off to the needs of another, then you are no better than the people who want to close this place down. It is your choice whether or not you want to hide away."

"Just like you did?" She shot back, her voice still laced in hostility as she broke away from him, but still facing him, she waited for his response.

"Yes, just like I did." As soon as those words had emerged, Amanda had turned away. After several seconds of silence had passed, Willy grew annoyed and stamped loudly on the floor. As he did, the vibrations from it echoed throughout the room. Moments later, he watched as she turned back around and regarded him with her arms still crossed over her chest.

"I don't need to be reminded of my past mistakes, as I know they are there and they remind me every day that I am as human as you. However, I do think you know perfectly well that that little girl is not at fault for the stupidity of her father. To harbor ill will towards her would be like lumping all confectioners into the same group as the Slugworths. You've already done that, and eventually came to realize how unfounded that was. I know that you were upset when you discovered the truth about me, but I can also tell that you are living in regret because of it."

Amanda took a deep breath but shook her head. "I can't forget what happened to me when I went into Theodore Stevens' office," she confessed.

"I know you can't, and I have not forgotten about how you were telling me about how humiliating that situation was for you," he said. "But, no one expects you to embrace that family as though they are long lost friends. However, this issue is more or less about a child's well being, not the ignorance of the parents."

He took a deep breath and regarded her through unhappy eyes. "Why can't you simply put your resentments aside and make that little girl feel welcomed? From what I have been able to understand about her, she is very unhappy. Perhaps the way to reach her father's sense of good will would be to start with her. You know that regardless of what happens to this house, that the spirit of good will should not be ignored." He paused as he inhaled slowly, all the while trying to collect his thoughts. "I have already affirmed to you that I will do whatever I can to help you stay open. However, there are still some things that can be even more beneficial than a sure thing. One comes to realize that through an act of good will, kindness, and understanding, mountains can be moved and wrongs can be righted."

Amanda took a deep breath. "Is that all?"

"I suppose it will have to be," he said, but before she could turn away from him, he walked towards the door and exited the room, thus leaving her alone.


	10. Chapter 10: A Child's Discovery

_Happy, soon to be, New Year. Here's hoping that you enjoy the latest installment to this story. I don't want it to seem rushed, but I do want to get it done before the holiday season gives way too much to the coldness of January. Here's hoping that you enjoy this update. Please let me know what you think.  
_

_Have a wonderful and prosperous new year. Stay safe and I'll see you back here next year. _

_Many blessings,_

_Yva J.

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**Chapter 10: A Child's Discovery**

Outside in the hallway, Willy found Wanda and Amber still looking at the artwork that covered the walls. "It's so pretty," the child was saying as she ran her hand along the side of one of the drawings.

As Willy stood watching the child's actions, he could not help but wonder how much longer the child might be able to see the colors before everything that was familiar to her would change. He watched as she ran her hand along the contours of the picture as enchantment lined his otherwise earnest features.

At that moment, he recalled how Paul had carried such an overwhelmingly positive outlook on life and in the recesses of his heart, he wished that the child could find the very same.

Was it even remotely possible that there existed someone who could share that same sense of optimism with this little girl?

It was clear to him that this would not come from Amanda. Even after he had spoken with her about the child, she still did not seem willing to meet anyone halfway. She had yet to come out into the hallway, and he pondered if she had even stopped to think about what he had said. The woman was pretty stubborn, and perhaps that was the only common ground they had.

Impulsively, the child turned around and looked up at him. "Is she still mad at me?" She eventually asked, thus breaking the silence.

"I don't think she's mad at you, sweetheart," the chocolatier said truthfully. "From what I could gather, she just has a lot on her mind and has a funny way of taking it out on those around her. Don't take it personally." He looked at his sister. "I'm supposed to meet Paul for tea. He's one of the residents here and invited me to join him. Perhaps you both would like to join me?"

"Actually, a warm cup of tea really sounds nice before we head back," Wanda said smiling. "What do you think, Amber. Shall we have a spot of tea before I take you home?"

"I guess," the girl muttered with another characteristic shrug of her shoulders.

"Then it's settled," Willy said with a smile. "Frankly, I think that he will be enchanted by Amber's presence."

The child blushed slightly. It was clear that she did not know what to make of Willy. All she was capable of doing was to wait for her teacher to respond.

"Of course, Willy, I think that would be very nice," Wanda said freely. It was clear that she was not yet ready to leave the house, but she was also not completely certain as to what they would be able to do if Amanda was still behaving in such a cold and distanced manner.

In response to his sister's words, Willy started to make his way down the hallway, his steps somewhat uneven. It seemed as though he was relaxed enough in this place that he could behave as though at home.

For her part, Amber was still staring after him. She seemed to be trying with all her might at figuring out why the confectioner was being so nice. After all, the little girl had somehow accustomed herself to people being unkind.

Instead of speaking to him, she looked at her teacher. "Mrs. Reynolds, I don't understand something."

"What is that, Amber?" Wanda asked as she turned and looked at the child.

"Why did you call him 'Willy'?" She asked meekly.

"Because that's his name," she said smiling. "You see, Amber, this is my brother, Willy Wonka."

"You're Willy Wonka?" Amber asked softly.

The chocolatier nodded. "Yes, I am."

Amber took a deep breath. "With the Golden Tickets?" She asked meekly.

Taking a deep breath Willy nodded. "Yes." No other words emerged from him, instead he reached for the child's hand. Once he held it, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm happy to meet you, Amber."

"Really?" She asked shyly.

"Of course," the chocolatier responded immediately.

For her part, Wanda watched as her brother spoke with the child. Feeling the awkwardness of the moment, she began to speak. "I honestly didn't expect to run into you here, Willy. I thought you weren't interested in sign."

"I told you I'd call them, Wanda. Don't be so surprised that things happen as efficiently as they do," he said smirking. After several moments, his expression abruptly shifted to that of earnestness. "Perhaps it was a good idea for me to come here anyway, because you were right about this place. It seems to be in dire need of help."

"Did Amanda Covington say this to you?" Wanda asked.

"Not directly, but a young lady named Anna who is in my class, did," Willy said. "She made some comment about my being here perhaps as a sign that I could possibly do something to help everyone here. It would seem that the people who live here all know about what is happening, they just don't speak openly about it."

"Why not?" Wanda asked.

"I don't really know," Willy said honestly. "I haven't really pondered that as of yet."

By this time, they had reached the end of the corridor and rounded it to find themselves standing in front of another door that led into a large and friendly looking room. Next to the door was a sign reading 'Cafeteria' with the Braille translation directly beneath the single word.

Willy was first to walk into the room, with Wanda and Amber coming slowly behind him. The little girl kept her gaze locked on the confectioner's back, but she was too shy about getting too close or speaking to him.

For his part, Willy tried not to think about the awkward stance of the fetching child. Instead, he walked over to a man who was seated at a table, a pot of tea in front of him and his expression neither smiling nor frowning. His elbows were resting on the table top, the mahogany fingertips tapping out a musical rhythm.

At that moment, Willy cleared his throat and the tapping ceased. He then spoke to the man. "Paul, it's me, Willy," he offered as he reached the table and sat down across from the man. He smiled as he regarded the half eaten Wonka bar that was on the table next to the cup.

Paul extended his hand over to where Willy's voice had emerged as a smile abruptly stretched across his face. "So how was class?" He asked casually as he clasped the confectioner's hand, squeezed, and then released it.

"It was alright," Willy said. "I invited a couple of people to come join us. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, the more the merrier," Paul said as he reached for the teapot and managed to pour himself a second cup of tea. As he replaced the ceramic pot, he began to listen intently. "Something tells me that one of your friends is a child and the other a lady. The footsteps sound light, as though someone is walking on their tiptoes. The lady is wearing shoes that sound like she wants to become a tap dancer."

Willy's eyes widened. "Yes you're right on both counts. The little girl's name is Amber, and the lady is my older sister, Wanda," Willy explained.

"Come and join us ladies," Paul called out, his strong baritone voice filtering throughout the room.

Upon hearing Paul's welcoming tone of voice, Wanda stepped even closer to the table. The little girl seemed all the more hesitant about approaching and hung back several centimeters.

When Paul stopped hearing the sounds of Amber's footsteps, he spoke up. "It's alright, little lady, you can come over here, I don't bite."

Amber nodded, not knowing that the man could not see her. She slowly approached the table, her shyness evident as she seated herself several centimeters away from where Willy was.

"Amber, Wanda, this is Paul, he's a new friend of mine, and one of the residents here," Willy said. "Paul, my sister is seated to my left, and Amber is seated to my right at about twenty centimeter distance."

"Why so far away?" Paul asked as he extended his hand over to Amber. "Are you afraid of something, little one?"

Amber shrugged her shoulders, but said nothing.

Willy smiled. "She's just shrugged her shoulders, Paul." He then turned to face the child. "He cannot tell anything by a shrug."

"Why not?" She asked meekly.

"I'm blind, honey," Paul said kindly.

"Y-you mean, you can't see?" Amber asked.

"Uh-huh, but I can hear you just fine, even when you mumble," he said.

Without any sort of warning, Amber slowly got to her feet and still staring at Paul, she backed away from the table. Within seconds, she turned and fled from the room, thus leaving Willy and Wanda staring after her.

Paul took a deep breath. "Did I scare her?" He asked.

"No," Wanda said as she looked at her brother. "I think Amber just figured out what has been happening to her. Somehow, your affirming that you are blind triggered something in her."

"I cannot change that fact, Willy," Paul said regretfully.

"We know that," Willy responded. "I'm afraid that this little girl sees blindness as a curse and not a fact of life. Perhaps she needs to spend more time here or in your company, so that she can learn how it really is. Perhaps it is the same logic behind why I started to learn sign." He cast a glance towards his sister who offered a reciprocating nod.

Inwardly, Wanda was overjoyed at her brother's power of deduction. He really did seem to understand her rationale for getting him to this place. Now all he would have to do now is find a way to resolve this with Charlie Bucket.

Willy got to his feet before Wanda could stand up. "Let me go after her," he suggested. "You can stay here and get to know Paul."

"Alright," Wanda said as she allowed her weight to collapse back against the chair.

Paul smiled. "That sounds like a nice arrangement to me, I always enjoy getting acquainted with lovely ladies."

Wanda, instead of arguing, blushed slightly as Willy left the room. One of these days I'm going to invest in some jogging shoes, he thought as soon as he had stepped out into the empty corridor. With all this running around, I am getting a lot more exercise than I ever did back at the factory.

He took a deep breath as he rounded the corner and made his way along the hallway until he spotted the child sitting on the ground and staring up at one of the pieces of artwork that covered a patch of wall in front of her. There she sat with her knees folded up beneath her weight as her arms draped casually over her lap. Every so often she would move one hand in order to wipe her eyes with the palm of her hand. As soon as the evident moisture had smeared away, she would lower it again.

Coming closer, Willy could see the tears that were caught beneath her eyes and at that moment, he knew that Paul had unknowingly affirmed the very thing that the child was fearful of and did not wish to accept in herself. If she had not been aware about what was happening before, she most certainly did now.

Taking a deep breath, the chocolatier approached as she raised her head. Immediately, her expression shifted so that what lined her face was now etched in nervousness. It was abundantly clear that the child could not conceal the fact that she was frightened.

Instead of speaking, she wound her arms around her thin frame and remained where she was seated. Somehow, she had hoped that he would go away, but when he did not, she could only wait for him to come closer.

As he reached where she sat, he lowered his body to the ground and allowed his legs to stretch out before him. Once comfortable, he leaned over and rested his hand on her shoulder. "I'm not going to hurt you, Amber. I just came to see if you were okay."

She took a deep breath. "I'm not scared of you," she whispered.

"I'm glad because I would feel horribly if I had done something that might have frightened you," he said smiling. "The truth is, I really am quite harmless."

The child shrugged yet again.

Willy, trying to ignore the silent gestures of the child, eventually spoke. "I have this strange feeling that something Paul said just now frightened you. Would you like to talk about it?" He asked. "Sometimes that has its way of making everything a little bit easier."

Amber closed her eyes and allowed the tears to once more stream from beneath them, her hands now rubbing over where the stream of moisture now was. After several seconds, she raised her head and looked at him. "Maybe, but talking about it isn't going to change anything."

Willy's eyes widened. The words she had spoken sounded as though they might have emerged from a grownup, but instead they had come from a nine-year-old girl. Strange how she was capable of carrying herself as a shy and intimidated child, yet she possessed the ability to carry herself with a maturity that stemmed far beyond physical age.

Perhaps the words that Amanda had told him about her made more sense. Her father seemed to be adamantly against her getting help, because it meant that she was displaying her internal weaknesses.

He took a deep breath. "Perhaps it won't change what has happened, but it might succeed in changing the way you look at it."

Amber looked at him as the logic of his words encased her. Eventually, she nodded and spoke, her voice soft. "I'm scared." As soon as the words had escaped from between her lips, she lowered her head and closed her eyes.

Willy reached over and touched her face, his fingertips feeling her, still moist, cheek. "I can tell that you're frightened, Amber," he said gently. "Sometimes the most frightening things that could happen to us are the very things we have absolutely no control over. That makes it even more difficult than the things we could consciously change in ourselves."

"I'm going blind, aren't I?" The child asked brokenly.

"I don't know, I'm not a doctor," he said gently. "I'm not qualified to make any sort of prognosis, but it might be a good idea for you to see a doctor."

"Mommy said that she wanted Judith to take me to a doctor," Amber said sadly. "But it was only because I was doing so badly in school."

"Is Judith your sister?" Willy asked.

"No," Amber whispered as she lowered her head and stared down at her lap. "She's the lady my daddy hired to take care of me."

"So, I take it you haven't spoke to your parents about any of this," Willy mused.

Amber shook her head. "They never have time for me. My daddy works all the time and Mommy is always with her friends."

"So, in other words, you're lonely _and_ afraid," Willy whispered. "That's not a very reassuring combination, is it?"

She shrugged her shoulders but looked away. After several moments passed between them, she turned back around. "Mr. Wonka, why did Mrs. Reynolds want to bring me here? Is it because she thinks I'm going blind?"

Willy inched his way closer to the little girl and wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulders. Beneath his touch, he could feel her shoulders trembling slightly and knew that an honest response was all he could offer.

He inhaled slowly. "Wanda was concerned about that as a possibility, but she also thought that perhaps the people here would be able to help you and your family in a way that the educational system could not. The people here are very nice and she concluded that they might be better able to relate to you."

"I don't want to go blind," she whispered. "I'm scared of the dark, Mr. Wonka."

Willy nodded. "There's nothing at all wrong with being scared, Amber."

"Maybe, but my daddy doesn't say that, he thinks being afraid is for wimps," she whispered.

"Well perhaps he needs a little lesson in human nature, because it is completely normal to be afraid – especially when the issue is change," he said. "I think the most frightening thing in the world is having to go through these experiences alone."

"I am alone, aren't I?" She asked.

"No, not anymore," he said. "As long as you have people around who know how you feel, then you will never be as alone as you think. Regardless of what anyone says, your friends would understand you."

"My friends?" She whispered. "I don't have any friends. They find out who my daddy is and then they leave." She paused. "Will you leave too?"

"No, I won't leave you if you don't want me to," he said honestly. "I mean; it would not be very nice of me to leave when I know that you are in need of a friend as well as shoulder to cry on." He reached over and touched her cheek, the remainders of her tears touching his fingertips. Instead of speaking further, he pulled a cloth handkerchief from the depths of his pocket and swiped it over his fingers. Finishing this, he brushed it lightly against her cheek.

"You want to be my friend?" She asked. "B-but, you're famous?"

"Perhaps I am, but we do have something in common, Amber."

"We do?"

He nodded. "Yes, you see, I'm in need of friends as much as you." As she looked up at him, he continued speaking. "Would you be my friend?"

She closed her eyes but nodded her head timidly as she felt the moisture streaming once more from beneath the closed lids. "I don't want to go blind," she whimpered softly.

"I know you don't, little one," he said as he gently pulled her into his arms and held her in the sanctuary of his embrace. As she began to cry softly, he began to rock her gently in his arms. "If that is the way things are going to happen, then perhaps you will be able to can ask your friends to help you along a little bit. You know, give us a chance to give you something that you would surely remember for a very, very, very long time."

"What do you mean?" She asked weakly.

"Well, you have my sister around and she is more than willing to help because she brought you here," he began. "You may not know it yet, but you have Paul Simmons. Although he may not be able to see you, he still carries so much love and caring in his heart that I know he would help if you asked. You also have me, and I have something in mind that might just give you a little bit of holiday cheer amidst all of this sadness you presently carry."

"What?"

"How would it be if you came to the factory for a tour?" He asked simply. "I know that it may not make things easier, but it might take your mind off of your fears for a little while. I don't want to brag, but someone once told me that the factory is the most wonderful place in the world, so who am I to argue against such logic?" He paused. "Would you like that?"

"Me?" She raised her head slowly. "But, I never even found a Golden Ticket. I wanted one, but Mommy and Daddy seemed opposed to the whole thing."

"Why is that?" He asked. "It was just a contest."

"Daddy said that it was a marketing scam," she whispered.

"Well, whatever he thinks, it really doesn't matter as the contest is over," he said gently. Amber looked away, her eyes closing as Willy took a deep breath and continued speaking. "Rest assured, little one, you don't need to have a Golden Ticket to come to the factory. All I would ask of you is to keep the visit a secret," he said.

In lieu of a response, Amber raised her head and looked into the crystalline blue eyes of the confectionary genius. Instead of seeing the traces of someone who was willing to take her on an emotional ride, what she saw was gentility, kindness and compassion lurking in his expression. At that moment, she felt herself once again being drawn into his arms.

"You really want to show me the factory?" She asked weakly.

In response to this question, Willy nodded as he once again wrapped her in his arms and held her.

There, the child began to weep softly.


	11. Chapter 11: A Rude Awakening

_Hello and welcome to the next installment of this story. Here's hoping that you continue to enjoy. I think that I will have it done by the Festival of the Three Kings. That's a good thing._

_Enjoy the latest installment.

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**Chapter 11: A Rude Awakening**

The chocolatier and the little girl remained in the hallway for several moments as Amber allowed her body to relax in the chocolatier's gentle hold. As he mopped up the tears with the soft white piece of cloth, a voice suddenly emerged at the other end of the hallway, the crass sound of it made her raise her head and turn around.

"So there you are."

The moment Amber recognized that the voice matched that of her father, she backed out of Willy's embrace. Not certain as to why or how Theodore had managed to find her, the little girl spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Daddy?" As the soft utterance emerged in the form of a question, the little girl's body unconsciously tensed up.

Although, at that moment, Willy was not physically in contact with her, he could tell beyond any doubt that she was terrified. The overt change in her manner thus caused him to raise his head and look into the angry eyes of Theodore Stevens.

Instead of emanating the same fright that had overtaken the child, the chocolatier regarded the banker in a calm manner, which could only be described as composed arrogance. It was clear that Willy would not be daunted by this man, so he looked evenly into the eyes of the banker. "Mr. Stevens, I presume."

From his position on the other side of the corridor, Theodore stood staring at his daughter and the chocolatier through disapproving eyes. His hands were pressed firmly against his hips and an angry look lined his face, but eventually he spoke, his voice laced in gruffness. "You presumed right. What about you? Are you some sick-o who trails little girls?"

Willy's eyes widened upon hearing these words, but he remained quiet as the man reached out and practically yanked his daughter to her feet and stared down into her innocent face. "You know perfectly well that you had no business coming here. I did not give your teacher permission to bring you, and I would think that you would know better than to knowingly disobey me."

"But I didn't," Amber protested as she tried to pull her arm out of her father's hold. "After you left, Mrs. Reynolds asked Mommy if I could come and she said I could."

"Are you talking back?" Theodore's voice rose and Amber cowered away from the sounds of it. As she did this, Willy watched in shock as the child's father started to raise his hand with the intention of striking her.

Instead of remaining where he was, the chocolatier went over to the man and grabbed his wrist before he could complete the act of hitting his daughter. "A real man does not hit a defenseless child," he said angrily. "If you have to hit someone, then perhaps you should go by the old adage of picking on someone your own size."

Theodore relaxed his arm, but still looked at his daughter, his voice lowering considerably. "I'll have a talk with your mother about this later. For now, Judith is waiting at the front of the house. I want you to go and wait for me there."

As soon as he had spoken, Amber nodded as she began to stumble away from where they were standing. Willy watched as the child disappeared in the distance. Seconds later, he was literally tossed headfirst into reality when Theodore addressed him once again, the man's temper flaring. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my kid?"

Willy took a deep breath, but remained calm. "Unlike you, Mr. Stevens, I was doing absolutely nothing to her and I don't appreciate what you are implying by such an inappropriate line of questioning." He paused, but when Theodore did not respond, he continued. "You know, for someone who speaks of the well being of a child, you certainly do not behave as though you care about Amber's. It truly surprises me to see that you have actually decided to come to 'The Rainbow House' at all, especially since you seem so intent on closing this place down. One might begin to question your motives."

"What do you mean by that?" Theodore shouted. "I came to pick up my daughter. My wife said that she was here."

"Of course, that's why you knew, and yet you still yelled at your daughter for having disobeyed you. Did you yell at your wife too?" Willy asked as he shook his head in feigned disbelief

"No, I did not," he snapped hostilely.

"It just seems ironic is all," Willy said calmly.

"What?"

Well, contrary to popular opinion, I happen to know much more about the situation with 'The Rainbow House' than you think. I understand that contrary to the services that this center provides that you are the one who is helping Slugworth Chocolates Incorporated destroy it. I also know that Amanda Covington has been to your office several times in an attempt to get financial support for it, which you have blatantly denied her. Perhaps you figured that a promotion would be the lasting result of this so called 'honest day's work'. Whatever the case, do not think, even for an instant, that this issue will resolve itself as you hope. You might succeed in closing this particular building, but you will not succeed in destroying 'The Rainbow House', because I will make certain that there will always be a place that caters to the needs of these special individuals. I will say it straight up, you will never succeed in destroying everything that these hard working people have created here."

Theodore looked at Willy and noticed that the chocolatier's eyes never faltered. "I honestly don't think that the crop of pretty words that you say will be able to stop me."

"Don't hold your breath, Mr. Stevens," Willy said adamantly. "You have absolutely no idea with whom you are dealing with."

"Alright, then, tell me."

"If you only knew," the chocolatier responded, his voice still laced in calmness. "What is important is not who I am, but rather the future of this place." He paused. "Perhaps one day you will learn to look beyond a signature on a document to understand human compassion. However, based upon what I have seen thus far, I can only conclude that you could care less."

"Why should I care?" He asked. "It's just a useless, run down old building."

"It's a lot more than just that," Willy began. "Now, whether you like it or not, your own daughter may eventually require the things that this center can offer. It's abundantly clear to me that you refuse to listen because your daughter is a child and 'children should be seen and not heard'. But, that is wrong, children are the future of this world, and therefore, should be seen _and_ heard. Right now, she is afraid to say anything to you because she is terrified."

"How could you possibly know that?" He asked. "Do you have kids?"

"No, I do not, but that doesn't mean that I haven't any idea about the basic needs of a child," Willy said softly.

Theodore looked at Willy, the hostility never leaving his face. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I care about your daughter. She's my friend, and I believe that when Wanda Reynolds brought her here, she had the permission from at least one of the child's parents."

"She did not get it from me," Theodore shot back.

"No, she got it from Amber's mother," he paused. "Perhaps your wife felt that it was a good idea for her to come here."

"Why?" Theodore asked. "My daughter is not like the people here."

"What makes you so certain?" Willy asked. "You seem to believe that you know your daughter very well, but based on what I have been able to ascertain, you clearly do not. Perhaps because you are willing to turn over the duties of parenting to a young woman who is not even a member of your immediate family."

"That's not any of your concern."

"Perhaps it is not, but it is a concern of my sister. After all, she is the one who sees Amber on a daily basis. Perhaps Wanda saw fit to tell me what has been happening because she knew that I could relate to Amber in some way," Willy said calmly.

"What did she tell you?" Theodore asked.

"She said that Amber's grades are getting worse because of her vision problems and her peers are giving her a hard time because she cannot make out the writing on the blackboard. I don't have to be an expert on child rearing to know that such things can be extremely frightening for a child, Mr. Stevens."

"Is that what your sister told you?" He asked.

"No, that's what Amber confided in me just now. She and I were talking just before you stormed your way through the hallway like a commando on a mission and started yelling at her for no good reason. It seems that based on her response alone, that you do an awful lot of yelling. Now it does not surprise me in the least to see that she is terrified of just about every grown up she encounters," he said. "If yelling and shouting is all that she knows about her father, then perhaps that explains why it is she is so terrified of you. If I was in her shoes, I would be as well."

At that moment, neither of the men noticed that Amanda Covington had emerged from the receptionist room and was coming down the hallway. Although she could not read either of their lips from the angle in which she was coming, she did manage to pick up the gist of their conversation.

She watched as Willy finished speaking, and noticed how Theodore's fists unconsciously clenched.

"My daughter is not scared of me," Theodore shouted before he could stop himself.

"I think she is," Willy responded calmly.

Instead of immediately speaking, Theodore reached out and grabbed the lapels of Willy's jacket and jerked him closer. "I know my daughter better than you, Mister," he said angrily but as if to add emphasis to his statement, he roughly shook the chocolatier before pushing him away.

Amanda watched this and shook her head. Without thinking of what she was doing, she spoke, her voice abruptly filling the hallway. "Is that what you wanted to do to me, Mr. Stevens? Shake me like I'm some disobedient dog who doesn't act or behave in the manner that you deem as appropriate?"

Theodore raised his head, his face immediately going pale. He had assaulted this stranger in a fit of rage, and now there was a witness to his unsuppressed anger. "What do you want, Miss Covington?" He asked.

"I don't know, Mr. Stevens, you tell me," she said calmly. "Perhaps I wanted to tell Mr. Wonka that I had thought about what he had said to me earlier. It was something about accepting your daughter, even though I think you're a complete asshole."

"I beg your pardon," he shot back.

"I think you heard me quite clearly, and unlike you, who basically believes I am dumb just because I cannot hear you," she said with her hands on her hips. This time, it was she who over-formed her words as she regarded him cynically. "You see, Mr. Stevens, I know that your daughter is not like you. I made the mistake of thinking that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but perhaps in Amber's care, it did fall much further than you would have hoped." She paused as she looked squarely in the eyes of the confectionary genius. "Is that what you were trying to tell me earlier, Willy?"

The chocolatier nodded. "Yes, Amanda, that's precisely what I wanted to say, although you put it far more eloquently than I could have. You are truly a quick learner, much quicker than our friend here."

Theodore's face went a shade whiter as he stared at Willy in wide-eyed astonishment. "You're Willy Wonka?" He asked. This time his words emerged in a simple utterance.

Of all the lousy luck, he thought. Not only had he managed to make a fool of himself in this place, but he had also assaulted the one person who could destroy everything he had been working towards with a simple wave of his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Stevens, that is my name," the confectioner said. He turned and looked at Amanda, and this time when he spoke, he managed to keep Theodore in his peripheral vision. "So, have you come up with any ideas as to how you can fight back?"

"I think maybe I have," she said smugly. "We have six days until the twenty-sixth, so perhaps it will be a good idea for me to go to the papers and tell them everything I know. May I tell them that you are enrolled in sign language classes here?" When Willy nodded, she smiled, but continued speaking. "Who knows, perhaps I ought to let it drop that Mr. Stevens just tried to assault you."

"Tell then whatever you think might help," he began. "Please keep it off the record that Wonka Industries intends to financially contribute to helping 'The Rainbow House' stay open. If not here on this property, than we will invest in a plot of land elsewhere," he said with a coy smirk. "But, I would prefer to look into that myself before letting it be publicly known."

"You'd really do that for us?" Amanda asked. "But you said earlier that I needed to tell the truth. If that's really your intention, then whatever it is I do, it will hold no merit."

"Believe me, Amanda, it will hold a great deal of merit," he began. "I want you to understand something. Money is not the answer to your problem, it lies in recognizing the heart and soul that you share with the community by staying open. If you go to the press and convey what has been happening here, then you can give them the chance to support the services that you provide. It comes through the voices of those who learn sign language, Braille, as well as anything else that is offered here. You have to know that you have helped so many people find their place in this world. Now, it is time for the families and friends of those people to say 'thank you' for the work that you have done since your family took over the running of this center."

Taking another deep breath, he continued. "I will be completely honest with you. I have no legal rights regarding financially saving this building, but I do have enough money from the Golden Ticket contest sales to help you build a new house as well as pay off the mortgage so that you will never have to deal with insensitive businessmen again." As if to add emphasis to these words, he motioned towards where Theodore was still standing.

"You can't do that," the banker sputtered. "You can't ruin what it is I am trying to do."

"What are you trying to do, Mr. Stevens?" Willy asked pointedly. "It is very clear to me that you are working towards evicting people from their home. What nobility lies in that? Based on what I have witnessed, you are merely playing mind games with those whom you perceive as being weaker than yourself. Do you truly gain something by talking down at them in the very same manner as you have done with your daughter."

"You don't understand," the banker tried again.

"Oh I think I understand perfectly," Willy said not bothering to conceal the sarcasm that was laced in his words. "I think I have gained a great deal of understanding since the first moment I stepped into this building. Now that I think about it, Amanda will probably not be the only one going to the press and speaking out about this issue. Perhaps, I ought to go as well, and tell them of my experiences here and the hospitality of the Covington family as well as the other residents here. After all, if Mr. Slugworth is so intent on gaining some notoriety through half-baked truths and overblown self-importance, then perhaps I ought to come out of hiding and demonstrate publicly where my support lies."

"You could ruin everything I've worked so hard to attain," Theodore whispered.

"Just as you have been trying to ruin everything that Amanda and people here have worked so hard for," Willy said meaningfully. "You have basically told your daughter that she could not come here, even though this is one of the only places in London that could do her a world of good."

"This isn't about Amber," he snapped.

"Well, it should be," Willy said. "Everything that you do should be about the daughter that you have been blessed with. Can't you see how lucky you are or are you too blinded by the acquisition of money or power?" A pause as he shook his head adamantly. "It doesn't get you anywhere, Mr. Stevens. I know this from personal experience. I have far more than I could ever need or want, but I'm still not happy."

"You're not?" Amanda asked, thus breaking her silence.

"No," he said, his response simple. "I'm learning about what true happiness is, but it is not something that can be bought with money. What it is, lies in the friends that one has. This is not attainable through Golden Tickets but through meeting people like those who care for and love this center. I discovered this through simply going out and seeing the world as it truly is, as opposed to hiding away from it." He smiled slightly as he clasped his hands together.

After several moments of silence had passed, he continued. "Somehow, I believed that it was a cold and distanced place and not warm and loving. My sister has always believed in the internal goodness that exists in the heart of mankind and it was her suggestion that brought me to this place. From the first moment that I walked through the door, I realized the magic that truly exists here. It's not just something that happens in select places or things, but it's all around us. We simply have to open ourselves to feeling, hearing, or even seeing it. For your daughter, she really is trying to hold onto that for as long as she can, and now she has friends who want to help her through that process." He took a deep breath, but when no one spoke, he continued.

"You see, Mr. Stevens, I am not thwarting your efforts. I will willingly concede to the fact that I am upsetting the objectives of the Slugworths, but that is none of your concern. Perhaps they will be able to expand and then their operation will become bigger than mine, but that no longer matters to me," Willy said directly. "After all, who was it that said that sometimes quality is better than quantity."

"You really don't care about that?" Amanda asked, her expression laced in unhidden surprise. "All this time, I thought you did?"

"A week ago, perhaps I did, but today I don't. I am grateful for what I have, that I can contribute to a center that I believe does noble work. If Mr. Stevens is really so intent on putting a group of hearing and visually impaired individuals out on the streets come Boxing Day, then he is indeed a person to pity and not despise."

"He could, though," she whispered. "That's what his intentions are."

Willy took a deep breath as he reached over and rested his hands on both of her shoulders. "Amanda, do consider this. If Arthur Slugworth is portrayed in the press as a Scrooge, then perhaps that might be enough to make him back off. The pen is mightier than the fist, and with enough bad publicity, it will no longer matter if he decides to expand operation. What will is how well his candy sells after the truth of his actions emerge. No one wants to read at Christmastime about how someone has willingly kicked people kicked people out of their home. Is Mr. Slugworth really willing to take that risk? I do not know the answer to that, but I can tell you that regardless of what does happen, you will always have a place to go."

She raised her head and as her gaze met his, he could see the tears catching in her eyes. "Is that your angle?"

"It's not an angle, but at this point, should we not take whatever option we can get? If I were to go to the press and tell them what I know about the Slugworths and what they are doing, then they would, no doubt, perceive me as being an embittered businessman and that my reaction as entirely motivated by business."

"It is," Theodore said snappishly.

"No, it's not," Willy said and shook his head. "If it was, then I would have gone to the media today instead of coming here. I will concede to the fact that would have behooved me financially to stop the Slugworths in any way possible. However, my motivation for getting involved here was not about that. You speak as though this is game dominated and ruled by selfish intent. It has culminated to angry words and lies that have been told to the press about 'The Rainbow House'. Yet, in all honesty, the person who made me realize what was happening was my sister. If she had not been at the bank building several days ago and saw Amanda in the elevator, then I would have continued to believe, not only what the Slugworths have been saying, but also the words that representatives of your bank have insisted upon. The media of this city has reported that 'The Rainbow House' is selling out to Slugworth Chocolates Incorporated. That is a fabrication and a lie. You know it and I know it. The proof has been the fact that Miss Covington has been in your office seeking help for this institution. She, as well as the people who work here, have tried everything they could to save this house, the only ones who don't want that are you and Arthur Slugworth."

He took a deep breath. "Now, you tell me Mr. Stevens; whose playing games here?"

Seeing that he had clearly lost, Theodore Stevens slowly walked away, thus leaving Amanda and Willy standing alone in the hallway.

"You knew this all along, didn't you?" She asked weakly.

"I knew what my sister told me about you and 'The Rainbow House'. I also knew what Charlie had told me, although I do think his message came from Wanda as well." He reached over and took the woman's hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. "'The Rainbow House' may change locations, Amanda, but the work that you've done here will be preserved. That does not mean that you have the right to hide from the truth. The truth will set you free, and perhaps it will assist us in getting this place a bit more help than we anticipated."

"What about that little girl?" Amanda asked softly.

"We'll have to wait and see, but something tells me that we have given her father a great deal of food for thought," Willy said smiling.

Amanda, in response to his words, wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Willy."

The chocolatier nodded as a genuine smile covered his lips. "No, thank you for helping me find the true spirit of the season."


	12. Chapter 12: Changes

_Hello, well here's the last chapter of this story. I will be posting the epilogue in a day or so. That means I met my deadline. That's good news. Hope you enjoy the last chapter. Yes, Charlie's report is a bit strange for a 12-year-old to write, but, do consider this: I'm 38-years-old, and it is not easy for me to write myself down 24 years. So please take it for what it's worth. But, do enjoy with my thanks for the reviews and support.

* * *

  
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**Chapter 12: Changes**

After Willy's initial visit to 'The Rainbow House', Charlie Bucket started to notice subtle changes taking place in the chocolatier. Through his teacher's assistance, the boy was granted the necessary permission to write his paper about Willy Wonka instead of himself. Upon discovering what the boy's intentions were, Wanda found herself unconsciously smiling at the chance to read what her student's perception of her younger brother was.

Her wait would not be long, because on the day before the Christmas holiday was to begin, Charlie came into the classroom with a small notebook in his hands. He wasn't certain as to why he was doing this, the paper was not due until the Friday after the holidays had ended. Yet, there he stood in front of the door leading into the classroom with the intention of turning in the paper early.

As he walked into the room, he noticed that Wanda was seated at her desk, her chin resting in the flat palms of her hands as her elbows rested casually on the flat surface of the desk.

The day after her brother's confrontation with Theodore Stevens, Zelda had contacted her telling her that she was taking Amber out of school until after the holidays. She wanted to get her daughter to the doctor, and asked for her daughter's assignments. Unwillingly, Wanda had given the assignments to the woman, all the while thinking that the child should focus on getting the help she needed and not on school work. Of course, she was grateful that the child's mother was at least getting involved instead of sending her babysitter to do what she and her husband should have been doing in the first place.

The teacher was smiling as Charlie approached the desk, the notebook he placed on the surface of it as he spoke to his teacher. "Mrs. Reynolds, I finished my paper."

"That was quick," she said as she ran her hand over the blue notebook that contained the completed assignment.

"I sort of got inspired," he said. "I think it's better than my 'Thankfulness' paper, but I'd probably have never gotten this one done if I had to write it about myself."

"May I read it now?" She asked.

"Sure," Charlie offered with a shrug of his shoulders, but watched as the teacher lowered her head and began to read the even handwriting that graced the page.

* * *

_**A Season of Change**_

_By: Charlie Bucket_

_As the seasons change from one to another, I watch the trees and see how the leaves go from green to shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. Eventually, they change to brown before drifting to the ground. In literature, I notice that this same kind of thing is evident when the character in a story changes because of certain experiences. Most of what I have read has been about characters that I do not really like or even relate to. At the beginning of the story, they are generally mean or cruel, but as the story progresses, I come to realize or understand their fate just a little bit better._

_I suppose the best example of this is the character of Scrooge from the Charles Dickens' classic __A Christmas Carol__. Throughout the story, Scrooge undergoes changes as he comes to realize how his past, present, and future are somehow connected with one another. Through his experiences, he is somehow defined by them, and that gives us the chance at seeing something otherwise ignored. That is, it somehow changes his perception about Christmas._

_This leads me to ponder whether or not this sort of thing can actually happen in the real world._

_I will freely admit that the moment I was assigned to write this paper, I did not believe that such a drastic change was even possible. In fact, I did not believe that a person could change in such a drastic way during a short span of time. Perhaps my disbelief was unfounded, because aside from the things that had happened in my life earlier this year, I suppose I failed to see a person go from unwilling to willing in the blink of an eye._

_The person I looked to for those answers was Willy Wonka. He is, outside of my family, probably my best friend and I don't think that will ever change. Not even if he gets mad at me or says that he is disappointed in something that I might have said or done._

_The thing is, throughout the time that I had this assignment, I kept asking myself why it was Mr. Wonka is the way he is. I contemplated possible answers, all the while thinking about the experiences that he might have had when he was younger. I concluded that they probably defined the person that he is today. It was rather like the image of Scrooge as he was being shown the shadows of his past._

_I constantly wondered whether or not my initial perception of Willy Wonka might have been misguided or wrong. There is so much that I still do not know or understand about him. I mean; even today, I cannot help but notice something strange and different about him. Yet, during this time, I have come to realize that I am still too afraid to even ask him about his experiences._

_As the holidays drew closer, I started to see things in him that reminded me of how Scrooge had changed in the story. Willy Wonka was changing right before my eyes. He was not just a confectioner who stood at the head of 'Wonka Industries'__and strived to make money. He was beginning to see the humanity that extended beyond the factory walls. It was like he realized that there was more to life than making money and having power._

_When did all of this happen? The questions ravaged my mind, and I continued to ask myself if it was even parallel to what I had read in the novel._

_I think it all started on that day when we were in his office and I had mentioned us taking a sign language class together. Many people do not know this, but Willy Wonka is deaf in one ear. With that ear, he cannot hear the sounds of carolers on the streets or make out a horn honking in the distance. I discovered this fact during the Golden Ticket tour back in October. This information stayed with me to this day, specifically when the issue of 'The Rainbow House' came out in the media._

'_The Rainbow House' is the only place left in London where one can learn sign language. It is a very unique place, in that it enables people to change their perceptions of the blind and deaf through education and community awareness. The people that we met there changed Willy Wonka in ways that they perhaps have not yet realized._

_They have somehow taken a man who has always been fixated with candy, marketing strategies, and profit margins, and changed him. Today, he is a more caring person who truly wants nothing more than to save this community center from possible demise._

_How did these changes come about? I do not know the answer to that question. I do know that after his first day at the center, he seemed happier, and not so worried about things. I remember the afternoon after his first visit there, I had gotten out of school and returned to the factory with the intention of trying to catch him in his office._

_I did not make it there, in fact, Mr. Wonka was standing at the front gate and waiting for me. His face was aglow with joy, and in his arms was a satchel filled with notebooks, pencils, and candy bars. I started to make my way through the gate when he turned around and spoke, his words stopping me dead in my tracks._

"_Come on Charlie, or we'll be late for sign language class," he said cheerfully. I turned around and noticed that he was smiling. I was still sort of angry and hurt by his earlier reactions, but I swallowed my pride and joined him. We walked several blocks to the class, the winter breeze ignored as we chatted about what had been going on. It was at that moment that he told me how he had regretted not having taken my suggestions seriously. He felt badly for that before telling me that I was his best friend. He said that he hoped I would forgive him and I told him that I did._

_As soon as we had reached the center, he began to show me around and introduced me to people like Anna, who is deaf and Paul, who is blind. Both of these people live at 'The Rainbow House' and I know that they hope that our presence there might make a difference for the people who want nothing more than to wake up on Christmas morning with a roof over their heads._

_It's very strange, but I never really thought about miracles existing only during this time of year. I always felt as though they were always around, we just had to look. Of course, through his actions, Mr. Wonka showed me that they clearly do. Somehow, I think that it was him who made everything just a little bit better for all of us this year._

_Maybe it is a rather nice thing to say that anything is possible, but I always felt that to wait for something miraculous to happen was a little bit naïve. Perhaps it is that sort of naiveté that we need, especially during this time of year._

_As I finished reading Charles Dickens' novel, I sort of realized that maybe that was what Scrooge was saying at the end when he was on his knees and praying. A simple miracle is not just about embracing what it is about ourselves and our friends that we love. Perhaps it also comes through accepting the things about ourselves that we do not like and resolving to make these changes happen one day at a time._

* * *

As she finished reading the paper, Wanda Reynolds was literally beaming. "Wonderful job, Charlie," she said simply as she closed the notebook and stuck it in her satchel. "You really do write well beyond your age."

He smiled but shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to show it to Mr. Wonka, but I was a little bit embarrassed about doing that. After I finished it; I just put it with my books and tried to forget about it, but I couldn't. Maybe you could show him since I don't have the courage to."

"Why not?" She asked.

"I don't know, maybe I'm just a little bit scared that what I noticed would be denied and he might say that it's not the truth," he said.

"But, it is, Charlie. The changes that happened in Willy are changes that I noticed as well. He's really doing everything he can to save 'The Rainbow House'. Just wait and see what happens next," she said. As she spoke, the door to the classroom opened and several of Charlie's classmates came into the room. "We'll speak some more about this later," she said, and he nodded as he went over to his seat and sat down.

* * *

Several hours after school had let out, Wanda Reynolds found herself standing in front of the factory grounds.

As she wound her hands around the now familiar bars that separated the street from the courtyard, she took a deep breath. The paper that Charlie had written was still tucked casually in the side pocket of her bag, and the contents of it were still lodged in the recesses of her mind.

She took a deep breath as a man came over to her. He carried a camera and wore a smile on his face that looked remotely like that of a used car salesman. "Mr. Wonka," he called out the name of her brother. She turned around and through this act along, it showed that although she was dressed in pants and a sweater, that she was clearly a woman.

"I'm not Mr. Wonka, Sir," she said as she ran her hand casually through her wiry hair and patted it into place.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were," he said. "You have the same sort of hair style as he does," the man quickly explained. "I figured that he had gone with the times and let his hair grow out."

Wanda took a deep breath, trying all the while at concealing her amusement. "Now that's one I've never heard before." She said as the man started to walk away.

It was strange, but the man's presence in front of the factory seemed to parallel the rumors that were now circulating about her brother. It was no secret that the famous confectioner was now out and about trying to play Father Christmas to the inhabitants of the center that catered to the visually and hearing impaired, but no one knew to what extent that was actually happening.

Wanda knew that as the days drew closer to Christmas, the newspapers would take it upon themselves to report everything they could. The evening edition from the day before reported seeing man in an Edwardian styled waistcoat and top hat roaming the streets of London with a boy in tow.

This gave rise to speculation, and Wanda knew that Willy did not want rumors circulating about his involvement with the center. Contrary to his trying to keep things under wraps, it seemed apparent that his activities somehow paralleled to that of a Charles Dickens novel.

As soon as the reporter had disappeared in the distance, she used the key Willy had given her and unlocked the gate and slipped quietly inside. It was now dark, closing in on five thirty in the afternoon, and she figured that her brother and Charlie had long since returned from the center and she was anxious to see Willy and show him the paper his apprentice had painstakingly written.

Managing to get inside the first building of the large complex, Wanda removed her coat and hung it on the rack before making her way in the direction of her brother's office. The corridor was filled with light and sound, thus giving way to the celebration of the holidays – Oompa Loompa style, no doubt.

As she reached the door leading into her brother's office, she paused for a moment before lightly knocking.

* * *

Just before hearing the sounds of his sister's light tapping at his door, Willy was sitting in his office and staring down at a copy of _The Financial Times_ that Thomas Wilkenson had left on his desk earlier that day. He had not yet read through it, and generally, he found these papers to be the most boring and depressing aspects of running a business.

Instead of grumbling about the newspaper's presence, he picked it up and unfolded it. As he did, a splashy headline that carried the words: _Has Wonka's Golden Ticket Tarnished? _was displayed.

Never one to dwell on the negative, Willy tossed the newspaper aside and tried to ignore the peach colored object. Of course, this had proven rather difficult as it stuck out in the very same way as an Oompa Loompa would in the Wonkavision room. The chocolatier took a deep breath as he continued to stare down at the object that was still half on, half off his desk.

His attention shifted to a small stack of twenty by thirty centimeter index cards. On one side of them, a bright letter 'w' graced each one. This generally signified a speech was to be made or something that indicated a decision made by 'Wonka Industries' as a whole.

At that moment, light tapping sound could be detected on the other side of his door. Immediately, he turned away from the desk, his gaze no longer on the newspaper or the small cards. Getting to his feet, he casually ran his hand through his curly hair before making his way over to the door and slowly opening it.

When he noticed that his older sister was standing at the threshold, he smiled. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" He asked coyly.

"Hi Willy," Wanda said smiling as she embraced him.

After several seconds, he backed away so that she could come into the strangely decorated room.

As soon as she came in and the door was closed behind her, she spotted the cards on the desk. "What's going on?" She asked.

"Tomorrow at noon, I'm going to disclose what will happen with 'The Rainbow House'," he said calmly, but added with a coy smirk. "The Slugworths are going to have kittens."

"What are you up to, Willy?" Wanda asked. "You simply cannot leave me in suspense. What would Mother say?"

"That I left you in suspense, and that you'd have to deal with it," he said with laughter in his voice. "Not to worry, my dear, I will tell you everything. Besides, I may actually require your help, since I am not very good at giving speeches and your ability with English might be just the ticket."

"For what it's worth, most people do have their issues with speeches, that's why they make notes of what they want to say," she motioned towards the stack of cards on his desk. "So do you want to tell me, or do I have to read it in your illegible scrawl?"

Willy took a deep breath. "I'll tell you," he said. "I found a place that might be perfect for 'The Rainbow House's' new location. It's in a very good part of town, and the building situation is more or less ideal. It's also not too far away from Hyde Park, and there is even a supermarket right down the street. I've been surveying building with Charlie during the past few days and it seems almost too perfect to be real. The building is newly restored and I actually went and signed the deed for it this morning. This I will sign over to Amanda Covington, and that will be the announcement that I will be making to the press tomorrow."

"You bought a building and a plot of land, just like that?" She asked. "Did you at least discuss it with Amanda? I mean; she and her family may want to stay where they are."

Willy nodded. "I know that they would like to stay, but they cannot. Wanda, I wasn't able to change Theodore Stevens' mind about foreclosing. In fact, it seems as though after our confrontation at the center, he has decided to move up the date of foreclosure to the day before Christmas-eve."

"How could they do that?" Wanda asked.

"They managed, but Amanda retaliated with an open interview that came out in yesterday's paper," he said smiling. "She hit them below the belt several times and I suppose Theodore Stevens has enough bad press to last till New Years. My only concern now is Amber."

"I think she's going to be just fine," Wanda said. "Her mother called me several days ago and said that she wanted to be dismissed from school for a week to go to a vision specialist. She did not mention what her husband was doing, but from what I have been able to surmise, Zelda Stevens seems more or less determined to take responsibility for her daughter and not shove the responsibility onto someone else."

"That's really good to hear. That little girl needs someone who is going to look out for her," he said with a smile. "She's really a precious little girl. I hope that soon I can give her the factory tour like I promised. If you talk to Mrs. Stevens, please convey this to her."

"I will do that," Wanda said as she reached over and touched his shoulder. "It really is strange what all happened, and yet none of us know what the future will bring."

"Perhaps we're not supposed to," Willy said.

"You're probably right, but Willy, you must know that you are the one who catalyzed everything that happened here. You made it possible for a little girl find the courage she needed to face whatever may come, and you helped enable the people at 'The Rainbow House' to do the same." She paused. "I'm so proud of you, and I know our mother would be as well."

"Dad would say I'm trying to save the world or some such thing," he smirked.

"In some ways, you are saving a small corner of it," she said. "Just by being there for the people who are your 'friends'."

"I'm not sure about that, Wanda," he mused. "I still think it was you bringing Amanda's card to me that brought all of this to light. Perhaps the title of catalyst should go to you, not me."

"But, who was it that inspired Amanda to speak out?" Wanda asked. "You are a wonderfully unique and special person, Willy. It was you who enabled the Stevens family to see to reason about getting Amber the help she needed. Maybe now, some of Amber's vision can be salvaged. Mrs. Stevens seemed to believe that by the end of the Christmas break, her daughter would be able to return to school and stay in normal classes. She went on to say that the specialist they saw seemed optimistic." As Wanda was speaking, she pulled out the report that Charlie had written and extended to her brother. "If you still don't believe in the goodness that you are, Willy Wonka, then have a look at this."

Accepting the blue colored notebook, he raised his head and looked at her. As the question loomed over him as to what this was, Wanda spoke. "Just read it."

Wordlessly, Willy opened the notebook and began to read the familiar handwriting of his protégé. After several moments of reading, Willy lowered the pages that carried Charlie's familiar penmanship. "He writes very well," he said as he lightly began to stroke the notebook in his hand.

When no further words emerged, Wanda smiled gently at her brother. "Charlie's observations were right, Willy. He thought that perhaps they were not, but you know as well as I that they were 'spot on'."

The chocolatier smiled. "Thank you, Wanda."

She nodded and offered his shoulder a loving squeeze.


	13. Epilogue: Plans and Intentions

_Well, here it is, the last update to this story. Thanks to all of you who read and reviewed this story. I realize that since the ending came after Christmas, it was perhaps out of season to some extent. So, it is really appreciated that you have taken the time to read and review this story as well as sticking with me through to the very end. My next story plan will be to do some work on 'The Searchers'. Depending on how much I change in that particular story, will depend on if I delete and resubmit the story's parts or just update what is already there. I do have intentions of finishing the story, so if you have been following it, please stay tuned._

_Thanks again for reading and have a wonderful time. Enjoy,_

_Yva J._

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**Epilogue: Plans and Intentions**

As the day of Paul Simmons' planned concert dawned, even more speculation about Willy Wonka had emerged in the media. Was yet another confectioner leaning towards expanding operations? It seemed a well known fact that Slugworth Chocolates Incorporated was dead set on tearing down the buildings that had once been known as 'The Rainbow House'. Already bulldozers were stationed along the perimeters of the property and waiting for the word to come down to start destruction.

The old Rainbow House was starting to look rather like a haunted house as the occupants began to move out and the furnishings were transported to the new location. No one outside of the residents, Willy and their friends what specifically was happening to it. However, it was safe to say that speculating seemed to have taken hold of the city in ways that would boggle the mind.

Instead of allowing rumors and hearsay to continue, Willy Wonka contacted the various news agencies in London, and announced that a press conference would be held on the twenty-third of December at the front gates of his famous chocolate factory.

Soon after making this information known, he invited Trudy, Ted, Paul, Anna, Ingrid, and Amanda to come to the factory to hear his words as well as to stay afterwards for an informal gathering.

As the gray colored winter sky of the early morning gave way to bitter cold sunshine and blue skies of the afternoon, Willy stood in front of the very same doorway that he had used when he emerged from the factory in October. From there, he stared outside through a small window at the activities that were taking place beyond his home. The area in front of the factory was filed with people, but a small stage had been set up just outside the front gate. Several chairs were placed where his guests were to be seated.

He now wondered if it was going to snow or if London was going to be kissed with the flurries of a white Christmas. It somehow looked as though it was about to start snowing, but then after a flake or two would flutter to the ground, it would abruptly stop just as suddenly. It was as though the weather was having second thoughts.

As he waited for the hour to strike when he was scheduled to go outside, the sound of someone clearing their throat emerged from behind him. He turned to see that Charlie was standing next to him, a half folded scarf in the boy's hand. "I wanted to wish you luck," he offered.

"Thank you, Charlie," Willy said smiling. "At this stage in the game, I think I am going to need all the luck there is."

"I'm sure you'll be great," he said as he extended the red colored scarf to the chocolatier. "My mother and grandmothers made this for me for my birthday. I thought it might bring you luck." With that, he carefully unfolded the scarf and put it around his friend's neck. "Besides, it's cold outside."

"I'll see you when all of this is over," Willy said as he dug in his coat pocket and extracted the index cards that he had put his notes on. "Be grateful that you don't have to do public speaking in school."

"No, just in your sister's class," the boy chided his friend with a nudge to the arm.

Willy smiled weakly as he opened the door and stepped outside.

As the door closed behind his friend, Charlie smiled as he watched Willy walk slowly towards the front gate and calmly open it. As soon as Willy had stepped through the gate, he rounded to the side of the stage before ascending the steps.

Reaching the podium, Willy looked out over the throng of people, many of whom were reporters. Cameras snapped, and stenographer's notebooks flipped open and the sounds of the people cheering abruptly filled the air. Turning away from the microphone, he wordlessly allowed his hand to pass over the small stack of cards.

What he did next surprised the throng of people waiting.

Instead of beginning his prepared speech, he tucked the cards back into his coat pocket before turning completely around to see that his six invited guests had been seated directly behind where he was standing. With a casual glance towards the microphone, he spoke. "Please excuse me, but before I begin, there is something that I must rectify here."

The crowd responded with even more murmurs, but casting off what they were saying, Willy went over to where Anna and Amanda were seated and spoke. "Amanda, would you and Anna please stand up?" The two of them exchanged confused glances, but eventually did as he requested. "I'm going to move your chairs so that you will know everything that is going on since what I have to say does affect you both."

The two of them watched as Willy Wonka moved their chairs so that they would be positioned in such a way that they could see his face and read his lips while he addressed the press.

Seconds later, and once their chairs had been moved and they had taken their seats, he returned to the podium and spoke. "Is that okay now?" He asked his two deaf friends. Once they had nodded, he looked out across the sea of faces.

"Before I begin, I want to wish all of you a Happy Christmas and welcome you to the factory," he said. "I realize that this is rather strange for me to come out and speak about something that I have read in the press. In the past it has never bothered me in the slightest what is written about me. However, I have invited you all here to end whatever speculation may still be circulating about the city. After having seen most of the newspapers here in town, I could not help but recognize that there were a vast number of untruths being reported here. Many of which have been centered on 'The Rainbow House', the Covington family, and less than moral intentions of one of my competitors.

"It was reported that 'The Rainbow House' was basically selling out to 'Slugworth Chocolates Incorporated' for the cheapest going rate that existed. After speaking with several people from 'The Rainbow House' itself, I discovered that this was not the truth at all. In fact, it seemed a blatant fabrication that had been inaccurately leaked to the press by representatives of the bank as well as by Mr. Slugworth's company. Aside from the articles that some of you have written and most of you have read; I am here to speak on behalf of Trudy, Ted, and Amanda Covington. I can further attest to the fact that none of them had the intentions of selling out to anyone. In fact, they have been fighting to stay open."

He took a deep breath. "I first came in contact with this remarkable place during the earlier parts of last week. My older sister had stopped by and expressed an interest in the work they were doing and she suggested that I go there and begin taking sign language classes because I am deaf in one ear. It was through her suggestions, that I discovered that this was the only place left in London where one could actually learn it. It shocked and saddened me to know that this community had literally cast them off based entirely on the words of the yellow press. No one was willing to offer financial assistance to them, and based on what has been conveyed to me, many chose to mock them. According to Amanda Covington, the business representative for 'The Rainbow House', they were facing foreclosure on the twenty-sixth of this month. I discovered on the twentieth that they had moved the date to today, December 23. Until Ms. Covington's interview had appeared in the paper, no one even knew that Amanda had sought financial assistance.

"Today, Wonka Industries is proud to announce that the Covington family did find help for their center. 'The Rainbow House', although no longer housed in the old location has been moved to the Wayside Building property, which has been on the market for the last six months. We have purchased this piece of real estate, not with the intention of expanding operation. I have no intention of playing 'Monopoly' with Arthur Slugworth or his company. The building in question will promptly be named as the new address for 'The Rainbow House'." He dug in the pocket of his coat and extracted a thick stack of papers. "Amanda Covington has put forth so much work and effort to save her home, and that effort did not fall on deaf ears – well maybe it did fall on one." He smiled impishly as he offered his hand to her and watched as she accepted it and stood up. Once she was on her feet, he ceremoniously handed the stack of papers to her. "Happy Christmas, Amanda."

Amanda reached out and took the offered papers as the crowd began to cheer. Their home was saved and she had Willy Wonka to thank for that. She raised her head and looked at him as her eyes filled with tears. "It will be now, thanks to you."

Willy nodded and smiled as he turned and looked at Paul. "Alright, that's all I have to say. So, in the finest tradition of things, I will turn the floor over to my friend, Paul Simmons. Paul, now it's time for you to let the concert begin."

Paul broke into a bright smile but waited for some moments as Trudy pulled out a large black colored instrument case and opened it. "It's to your left," she said as he felt her hand guiding his over to the contents of the case. With expert fingers, he began to put his saxophone together.

Moments later he began to play a few long tones to warm up and soon the area was filled with music as Paul played 'Jingle Bells'.

After the song had ended, Willy looked at his friend as the people still standing around began to applaud the musician's efforts. "I told you it would be the biggest gig you ever played," he said smiling impishly.

"I _see_ that," Paul noted with a snicker as the crowd once again began to applaud. As soon as it had died down, he began to play a soulful version of 'Silent Night' to which Willy began to sing along in the German language.

As soon as the song had ended, Paul turned towards where Willy's voice had emerged throughout the song. A smile spread across the musician's face as he addressed the chocolatier. "Thanks Willy for giving us our Christmas miracle."

The chocolatier smiled, but instead of responding verbally, he dug in his pocket yet again and extracted a candy bar. This he wordlessly placed in his friend's hand.

Before Paul could respond, someone approached the stage and spoke his name. "Mr. Wonka?"

"Yes?" The chocolatier turned around to see that Zelda Stevens was standing at the base of the stairs with Amber right next to her. He started to make his way towards where the woman stood. As he descended the steps, she began to speak.

"My name is Zelda Stevens, and I think you know my daughter, Amber."

"Of course," Willy said as he shifted his attention to the child. She now wore special glasses over her eyes, but her face broke into a broad smile as she felt him taking her hand. "How are you doing, sweetheart."

"Better," she whispered.

"That's good," he smiled. "So are you still scared of the dark?"

Amber shook her head. "No, it's not really that dark. You just look like a giant purple glob."

"A glob huh?" Willy smirked, but instead of responding further, he wrapped the child in his arms, brought her up onto the stage and began to swing her around. In response to this, the child squealed happily as she reciprocated the embrace and wrapped her arms as far around the chocolatier's neck as they would go. As he once more lowered her to the ground, Zelda came up the steps and smiled when she heard her daughter's hiccup like laughter emerging.

"You're very kind," she began. "Amber just wanted to see you. I-I hope you don't mind my bringing her."

"Not at all, she's always welcome here," he said gently. "I really appreciate you bringing her to see me. I can only hope that my sister or I didn't cause you any further grief or trouble with your husband."

"No, you actually managed to open my eyes and make me see what I had been doing," she said. "Mr. Wonka, I know that perhaps it is wrong of me to ask, but can you forgive Theodore for what he did? I know that he was trying to do what was right by us, but I think his only excuse is that he refused to see the big picture."

"Of course, dear lady," Willy said gently. "I can."

As he spoke, he turned to see that Amber had made her way over to where Paul was standing and playing.

Despite her uncertainties, the woman watched as Amber began to dance. "She's finally happy, isn't she?"

Willy nodded as he offered the woman a smile. "I always knew that I had something in common with your daughter, Mrs. Stevens."

The woman nodded, but instead of inquiring as to what that was, she continued to watch as her daughter danced. Soon Willy had excused himself in order to join his young friend. After some time had passed, their mutual laughter filled the air.

Paul's concert continued well into the late afternoon. As the hour struck five and it was beginning to get dark, the street lamps surrounding the factory were illuminated. As members of the crowd found the courage to sang and dance along with the group of friends, the promised snowfall had finally started.

The end.


End file.
